#eddie munson the gremlin

[humanityinahandbag]

Steddie: Wayne the Matchmaker (Part 1?)

Wayne wasn't born yesterday.

He knows full well that his nephew, his boy, is far gone for the Harrington kid. Knows it in the way he sighs, the way he drapes himself over the couch. Knows it in the way lyrics pour out of Eddie's room while he tries to write songs (just last Tuesday he heard Eddie muttering goddammit what rhymes with chest hair from behind his bedroom door).

So it isn't much of a surprise to see Eddie swooning quietly by the front door as he shoves his feet into ratty sneakers, a red car waiting in the driveway. Government hush money had been enough for Wayne to take less shifts, to put some away for Eddie's future, and to buy a modest one floor ranch house on a tree lined street closer to his boy's new friends.

Including the one currently walking carefully around the newly planted posies towards the front door.

"You seein' that Harrington boy again?" he asks.

Eddie's face went pink, and he ducked down pretending to look through his backpack for something. "Yeah," he says behind a curtain of hair. "We're going to the movies."

"S'nice. What are you seein'?"

"Uh, the new David Bowie thing. Labyrinth."

Wayne ignores how Eddie phrases it, like he hadn't been bouncing off the walls to see that little David Bowie Thing when the posters first showed up outside Melvalds. "Doesn't much seem his taste. He choose it?"

"Yeah, he-" Eddie stops and looks up. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't do that," Eddie says, fixing his Uncle with a frosty stare. "I know what you're doing, and we're just- we're friends. He's- he likes his ex. You should see them, honestly. They're like, perfect together. Dream couple." As if Wayne didn't hear the sorrow behind his tone.

"Mmmhm," says Wayne. "You sure?"

Eddie didn't get a chance to rebuttal when the door was knocked. Wayne opens it before he could.

"Hi, sir." Always polite this one. Steve's wearing a polo shirt and light wash jeans. It all looks newly pressed. And if he breathes in- yup. That's definitely cologne. "Uh, I'm here for Eddie?"

"Yeah, he's here. You wanna come in-"

"He doesn't." Eddie pops out from behind the door, glaring over his shoulder at Wayne. "C'mon, Stevie! We'll miss the previews!"

"Bye, Mr. Munson!" Steve calls over his shoulder. He grabs Eddie by the back of the collar, tugging him backwards, laughing and racing him to the car.

And well. This just wouldn't do.

-

Wayne never pretended to know a whole lot about love. He'd had his flings back in the day, but life had given him more curveballs than he'd been able to catch at once.

Not that he was complaining. Eddie was one of the best things that had ever happened to him.

But dammit if he didn't want the kid falling down the same hole he had.

Eddie deserves love. And Wayne figures that a few gentle nudges wouldn't hurt.

-

It starts with simple suggestion.

The next time Steve is at the front door, Wayne makes sure to distract Eddie with a well timed, "fix your hair," that had him scrambling for the bathroom, leaving Wayne alone with the Harrington boy.

"Steve," he says.

"Mr. Munson! Nice to see you. Um, we're just going to the arcade-"

"He likes sticky hands."

Steve blinks. "Sorry?"

"If you're gonna win him anything, get him one'a those sticky hands. It'll be hell on me, but he loves'm."

Steve nods, like it was precious information, perking up when Eddie breaks out of the bathroom.

When they get back, Eddie is considerably pinker, slapping everything around the house with a stupid pink sticky hand on a string.

"Steve won it for me," he says, as if daring Wayne to take it away.

Wayne only cracks another beer.

-

(He tells himself over and over that this is for the pursuit of love, even when he wants to shove Eddie out a window the fourth time a very sticky hand thwacks him on the back of his bald head.)

-

"He likes sunflowers," Wayne says the next time he sees Steve, which just so happens to be a week before graduation. Steve had arrived with a cake. A cake he baked. From scratch. Eddie had run to get his camera to take a picture and that was when Wayne got his chance.

Steve looks up at Wayne owlishly. "Sorry?"

"Sunflowers," Wayne repeats. "If you get him flowers for graduation, that's what he likes."

Steve nods seriously, brow drawn in thought. "Cool," he says finally. "Sunflowers."

Eddie gets sunflowers for graduation. He presses one of the petals between the pages of The Hobbit.

"Still think he's just a friend?" Wayne asks from the doorway.

Eddie traces the petal and closes the book. "It's enough," he says.

Wayne gives his nephew a long look. "You're allowed to like him."

"I know."

"No. You're allowed to like him," Wayne says again. "Like him like you like him."

Eddie stares at the petal. "I know," he says. And then; "I love him."

"I know," says Wayne and bundles Eddie into a hug.

-

Wayne gets to a point where he could gnaw through the walls of their new home, which he won't do, because Claudia Henderson chose the wallpaper and chewing on furniture is mostly frowned upon. But by god does he want to.

Wherever Eddie is, Steve follows. He appears at their front door to take Eddie on hikes. When he heard Eddie never learned to swim, he takes him to the quarry and Eddie comes back damp and flushed and Wayne guesses it has something to do with the shirtless boy in the driveway.

And yet through it all, Eddie doesn't see.

He doesn't see the long looks or the careful touches. Doesn't grasp the meaning behind Steve appearing one night with a bag of groceries and a smile and an announcement of I'm cooking you dinner! before making the best damn lasagne Wayne's ever had.

Instead, Eddie fawns and sighs and does everything he can to make Steve happy. Dotes and compliments and builds him up until Steve is red and spluttering and beaming.

Eddie is a good boy. Wayne raised a good boy, who loves fiercely and wholly, but somehow didn't think he was worth the same trouble.

And. Well. That just wouldn't do.

-

Wayne wants time to come up with some kind of a plan, but fate was a sporadic fucking asshole and chose for him. Which is how Wayne finds himself answering the phone on a Thursday to hear Steve's voice on the other line.

"Mr. Munson?"

"Steve. Eddie ain't home. He's at band practice."

"Oh," Steve says. "Right, uh. Can you tell him that I called?"

Wayne thinks a moment. "I can," he says, slowly. "But first, I'd like to talk to you."

A long pause. He can practically hear Steve sweating on the other line. "Me?"

"You," says Wayne. "S'only that you've been here an awful lot lately. Eddie's taken a real shine to you. You know that?"

"He's one of my closest friends, Mr. Munson."

"Mmmhm. An' I'm glad for him. But I don't mean like that."

He hears Steve suck in a breath on the other end. "Oh."

"Not that it's any of my business, an' maybe these old eyes are seein' things, but I catch you lookin' from time to time. Then again, I'm just an' old man-"

"You're not that old," Steve says. "And. Your eyes work great. Probably better than mine."

Good first step. Buttering up the parents.

"So. Just so we're on the same page, Mr. Munson. Eddie told me that you know about him. That he likes. Um. Yunno."

"Men."

"Yeah," says Steve, relieved. "Yeah, men, right. And so I was thinking the other day that I'm a man!"

"So you are," says Wayne.

"And it came to my attention a few months ago that people can like both. Which is- which is crazy. But I guess it's not so crazy. I used to work in an ice cream store and people would order the weirdest combos. Like... strawberry and pistachio? And I'd say, you can't like both! But then Robin told me I could."

"Steve."

"Right. So anyway. I've been spending all this time with Eddie. But I wasn't really sure. I mean, he can like men. But that doesn't mean he'd like my type of man. That I am. Man-wise."

Wayne hums. "And if I told you he did like your type of man? Man wise?"

"I'd probably ask if he liked Italian or Chinese, sir."

Outside Wayne can hear Eddie's van rolling back down the street. "He likes lo mein. No onions."

"Okay," breathes Steve.

"And even if he looks like an angry alley cat, the boy likes romance. You hear me, son? Candles, flowers, showin' up at windows."

"I can do that," says Steve. "I'm great at romance."

Eddie's car rolls into the driveway and Wayne looks out the window, waving to Eddie as he cuts the engine and the music and steps out. His boy stops to carefully step over the flowers first, waving back.

His good boy, who pours love out until he's empty and never complains. He deserves to have it poured back.

"You're welcome anytime, Steve," says Wayne earnestly. "Anyone who makes my boy as happy as he is- you're welcome anytime."

Eddie walks in as Wayne hangs up. "Who was that?"

Wayne tugs him into a hug. "No one," he says. And then, "go shower. You smell like Gareth's garage."

"Like a goddamn rockstar, you mean?" Eddie ducks away from a swat and laughs, running down the hall.

Like a kid in love, Wayne thinks, and turns on the game.

-

With ao3 being down (pour one out, I'm donating my life savings once they're back up) I got feral enough to write a one shot on here. I can't update my other Wayne Matchmaker fic. So. Yunno. This will have to do for now.

Does this need a part 2? You tell me.

LONGER, EDITED VERSION NOW ON AO3!

(IF I POST A PART 2 IT WILL BE THERE :D)

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

Hellfire did in fact, have cookies to sell.

More than cookies, which Dustin practically preened over when Eddie dragged himself back to their table. 

The ornaments they had made were still there, but now the centerpiece was an array of baked goods. Spread out in a spiral, it started from the large cake in the center and spun out into miniature cookies held in tiny decorated bags, all while Harrington stood over them like a proud parent. 

It smelled mockingly delicious. 

Eddie glared at the display, resisting the urge to upend the whole thing onto the floor.

Cookies and cakes and (--was that frickin bread pudding?) whatever other treats Harrington had shown up with might look good, but Eddie didn’t trust it. 

Didn’t trust Harrington, even if the bastard had never really done anything himself--but then, he never had to, had he? 

That was the point of all that money, after all. So he could pay other people to do his dirty work while he kept his hands squeaky clean. 

“Inch a bit to the left--there, stop!” Harrington was saying, like the bossy asshole he was.

Like he thought he could just come in and expect everyone to follow his lead. 

“Perfect! Now don’t touch it.” 

God, Eddie had to nip this in the butt, now. Before King Horrorton harassed his sheep all day, and cemented the club's undeserved bad name in the minds of Hawkins.

“Dustin what did I just say--” 

Eddie stepped up to the front of their table, preparing himself for war. Looked over to his friends knowing they'd likely need a nod of reassurance. A show from him that said he had this handled.

There was no cowering. 

No pleading, helpless, 'What do we do Eddie!?' gazes aimed his direction.

Hellfire wasn’t even looking at him, and not because they were all avoiding Harrington's line of sight.

No, the fucking traiters were flanking the King. Like they were buddies with the bastard instead of mortal enemies. 

“Hey, Ed’s, Harrington brought pies. Cakes too!” Gareth said around a mouthful of said cookie when he noticed Eddie standing before him. 

It came out a garbled mess, but years of experience had Eddie understanding him anyway. 

Jeff was busy playing what sounded like twenty fucking questions regarding the setup, and even Grant appeared comfortable, happily letting Harrington order him around as they finished setting up. 

Like this was some kind of cutesy Disney movie where they all held hands and sang songs instead of a hostile takeover situation. 

Eddie’s eye twitched.

Sensing a disturbance in the force, Jeff looked up and immediately interrupted himself to point to a series of red and green cookies placed dead center, delighted. 

“Check it out man, Steve made some shaped like dice!” 

(And he did say ‘Steve.’ 

Not Harrington, or This Asshole, or The Invading Evil Forces of Darkness.

Just Steve, like Steve was someone Jeff hung out with everyday.

Jeff’s cleric was a dead elf walking.) 

Eddie took note of what was in fact, dice cookies. 

He hated how good they looked.

“There’s four flavors.” Steve told him, cocky little grin on his face as he observed his work.  “Chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and the dice ones are sugar cookies.” 

He licked his lips before finally turning to look at Eddie, hair curling over his face and making him wave a hand to brush them out of his eyes. 

Eddie hated how good he looked too. 

‘Hate, hate, hate, absolutely loathe-’ 

“Great, sure, wonderful.” Eddie managed, though given the look Grant and Jeff both shot him it might have come out as more of a growl. 

Dustin rolled his eyes, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Hellfire’s other two youngest hadn’t dared to show their faces yet. 

Likely they knew Eddie was having an absolute meltdown over Steve’s presence and were waiting for his reaction to blow over. 

(Their characters were dead too.) 

“I have two full cakes--one chocolate, on vanilla--and a few individual slices we can sell.” Steve was continuing, as if Eddie wasn’t glaring a hole in his forehead. “Those did really well last year when I made them for the basketball team.” 

Insults fought for space on Eddie’s tongue, but he managed to roll a 20 to pick the best one, opening his mouth to let it fly.

"Harr-" is as far as he got before he was rudely interrupted.

“Steve? Is that you?” A woman Eddie didn’t recognize but was clearly someone's mom came up cautiously to the table, side eyeing the Hellfire banner like a nervous horse. “That can’t be your famous tiramisu, is it?”

Steve beamed at her. “Well hi Miss Carpenter. It is!” 

Eddie was bumped aside by a massive purse, the woman not even glancing in his direction as she stepped up to the table. 

With a sneer, he finally slumped to the back of their little spot as Miss Carpenter looked over all Steve’s (not Hellfire’s and absolutely not Eddie’s) offerings. 

Didn’t care to wipe it off right then, even if he knew he needed to if he wanted to make sales. 

Jeff sent him a look.

The same one he usually aimed Eddie’s way when he thought Eddie’s antics were going to cause problems. 

He ignored it, on grounds that traitors don’t get to be judgy. 

“Oh,” Miss Caprtender tittered, the draw of Harrington’s baked goods clearly overcoming whatever fear she had about Hellfire. “Well I just can’t pass that up. The swim team meets aren’t the same without you!”

Eddie pretended to gag.  

Waited for her to comment on Hellfire--their clothes, their music, hell even the length of Eddie’s hair--and found he was almost disappointed when there wasn't even a single question about Hawkins precious golden child was slumming it with the weirdos. 

Instead, Miss Carpenter's hand went fishing in her purse for her wallet as she loudly called out over her shoulder, to presumably another annoying woman; 

“Terry, Steve’s here! He’s been baking!” 

For two terrifying seconds, there was a notable dip in the conversations around them. 

Grant’s eyes went wide as several women responded to the announcement like dogs hearing food hit the floor, and within seconds their table was absolutely swarmed by the mothers of Hawkins.

Even Eddie’s eyes went wide at the sheer number of them. 

“Hold, men, hold.” Dustin cautioned as Jeff and Grant both took a step back. “Come on, we need to get our gold!” 

“They’re scary though.” Gareth whispered in horror as four women tried to talk at once, jostling each other so hard they shook the table menacingly. 

“Ladies, ladies there’s enough here for everyone!” Steve laughed, showing off his disgustingly cute dimples as he did, getting several of the mom’s to blush at their own behavior in the process. 

The sheer amount of attention of course, drew in even more people, and Dustin quickly took up directing, planting Jeff and Grant at either end of their table while he and Steve fended off the hoard from the front. 

(Given the way he and Steve were equally ordering Hellfire around, Eddie finally knew where the little shit had picked that attitude up from. He was going to have to cure Dustin of it, ASAP.  ) 

“Here you go Miss Harper.” Steve said sweetly, handing over yet another stack of baked goods.

Without turning his head, and in the tone of voice one used to warn a misbehaving dog, he added; “Gareth don’t think I can’t fucking see you, get back up here.” 

Caught trying to sink under the table with another cookie in his mouth, Gareth found himself hauled back to his feet by his collar, putting a snarl on Eddie’s face immediately. 

“Hey--” He started, defensive and more than ready to intercede, except Gareth wasn’t flinching or cursing or doing that thing he did with his mouth when he was desperately trying to hold in his temper. 

Instead he was giving a sheepish grin and a half-assed apology while he hung in Harrington’s grasp, before doing what the guy told him to do. 

(It did not help that Steve patted him on the shoulder when he released him, before handing Gareth a third fucking cookie.)

Eddie’s eye twitched a second time.

(He told it to knock it off.

It didn’t listen.) 

No one acknowledged Eddie or his outburst, which meant he was just skulking behind the boys while they all worked. 

Arms crossed, rings tapping a rhythm on his forearm, far too keyed up to do anything other than glare at the back of Harrington's skull.

The King seemed perfectly happy to ignore him.

Likewise, Gareth and Grant knew better than to bother him when he was in a snit. 

Henderson made the occasional snappy little comment, but the brat had mostly left him alone now that they were well into the swing of selling, chortling over the increasing stack of cash Steve kept trying to get him to put into a “safe place.” 

Eddie was seconds away from walking up and snatching the cash himself when Jeff decided it was on him to attempt the impossible. 

Get him to help Harrington. 

“More hands would be nice, Eddie!” Jeff called, looking more than a little harassed as the mom he was helping changed her order a second time, snaking out the last single slice of chocolate cake from another mom who was eyeing it. “Steve and I could really use your assistance over here!” 

Eddie’s glare, which had been doing its level best to try and vaporize the King’s brain, switched targets instantly. 

“I’m supervising.” 

Jeff made a face like he was about to argue, but the King beat him to it. 

“It must be tough,” Harrington said, tilting his head to look back towards Eddie, “to supervise people who are working so much harder than you.” 

Which promptly set the mood for the next full hour. 

xXx 

Harrington was matching him tit for tat.

Every shitty, sneered word out of Eddie’s mouth was met with an equally mean toned barb, though given the repeated looks everyone kept shooting him, Eddie was very much considered the aggressor here.

A fact he cannot believe is coming from his own friends.

What happened to comradery? To Eddie stepping in and protecting them, from the likes of people just like Harrington? 

But no, Eddie makes one fucking comment about how the cookies are probably half hair-spray and suddenly he’s the bad guy.

(Nevermind that Steve had fired right back, telling Eddie that any hair-spray taste was probably from all the drugs he did.)

Was somewhat, halfway--okay maybe amazing, Eddie might have snuck a cookie himself--food really all it took to get them all to turn on him like this?

Erase the years of Eddie being their shield in high school? 

Act like Harrington wasn’t just as bitchy and awful as he had been in high school (even if he was, admittedly, being nicer about it all right now? Almost--aloof, like he couldn’t figure out why Eddie hated him so much, but likewise wasn’t going to take even one eye roll sitting down--and no, no, Eddie wasn't derailing this by thinking about his stupid eyes, he wasn't!) 

Frankly he would have flipped them all the bird and stormed off, if it weren’t for the increasingly weird little comments people were making. 

‘Oh Steve, it's a shock to see you here.’ 

‘Are you doing someone a favor?’ 

‘You know Pastor Jim said something about this game…’

The last one had put Eddie’s teeth on edge, even if Dustin had brushed it off. It hadn’t been aimed at Steve directly but the women saying it had absolutely been looking at the King, as if waiting for his reaction.

Not that Harrington would take the bait this soon, though. 

There were too many people buying fricken…cupcakes and shit, while the King enjoyed the attention of the masses. 

Eventually this tiny crowd would die down though, and that’s when Harrington would change his tune. Start answering some of the questions he seemed to be dodging as more and more people got braver about coming up to the table.

This whole thing was a ticking time bomb, and Eddie would be ready when it inevitably blew. 

To defend his table, his club, his friends. 

Even Henderson, who absolutely didn’t deserve it just then. 

“Dude perk up would you? You look like you’re going to stab somebody.” Jeff hissed at him ten minutes later, when there was finally a break in the flood. 

Eddie ignored him in place of taking stock of the table. (And maybe, sneaking another cookie.)

“Hope you brought more than this, Harrington.” He said, knowing he sounded like a stuck up ass and not feeling an iota of guilt about it. “Unless you plan to run home and bake more like a good little housewife.”  

“Dude.” Grant said, casting him a look like King Dick might leave and take the cookies with him.

“Oh I brought more.” Harrington dismissed, with a small flick of his fingers. “And I’ll have you know you’d never find a housewife more perfect than I am, Munson.” 

Then he turned to nail Eddie with the most shit eating grin he’d ever seen the King wear. 

Facing flaming a brilliant red, Eddie sputtered for a second before finally getting ahold of himself and spitting; 

“How delightful. I--” 

“Okay.” Jeff cut in, forever the mediator. “Gary, Dustin can you help Steve pull the extra stuff out from under the tables? While I go talk to Eddie?” 

“Can I try the tiramisu?” Gareth asked, inching hopefully towards the treat while keeping an eye on Harrington’s hands, lest he get smacked again. 

“Only if you’re a good boy.” Harrington told him sarcastically and goddammit why did that make Eddie blush harder!? 

Jeff sighed, before grabbing his arm and hauling Eddie back, away from the table, right as a younger man in some stupid sport’s jacket asked questions about one of the dice cookies.

“Look I get it man, I do,” Jeff started, voice talking on the sort of wheelding, pleading tone it did when he really wanted something and knew Eddie was opposed. “but Steve’s actually been super cool. We might actually make money off this, and he’s giving us all of it. Can you just… not antagonize him for five minutes?” 

Eddie stared at his best friend in abject horror. 

“You couldn’t have talked to him for more than twenty minutes total. Half of which he spent bitching that you were bagging a cake wrong! At what point was Harrington "being cool!?"

The asterisks were made by his fingers, which Eddie mockingly framed his face with. 

He got a flat, unimpressed stare in return. 

“It was a very informative twenty minutes and he was right about the cake. Now are you going to help or are you going to glower in the corner?” 

Eddie gaped. 

“I cannot believe you right now--”

Jeff didn’t even wait to hear him out.

 “You’ve chosen to glower. I can’t help you man, but we’d all have a much better day if you weren’t at Harrington’s throat every five seconds.” Jeff turned smoothly on his heel.

Over his shoulder he added; “Seriously, don’t come back until you’ve worked your way out of your snit.” 

Shocked, Eddie watched Jeff float back to the front, inserting himself easily between Grant and Steve and immediately striking up a conversation.

With the enemy. 

“I didn’t know you baked.” Jeff told Steve loudly (and very obviously, for Eddie to see.) 

Steve gave a bashful little smile, then shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Got into it back when the basketball team needed to fundraise a few years ago and Tommy’s mom got it in her head we should sell home baked goods. Turns out its kinda fun.” 

“Please never get out of it.” Gareth insisted, a piece of God knows what crammed in his mouth.

“Dude, how many of those have you gotten into!? Stop eating the merchandise!” Dustin commanded, smacking at Gareth’s shoulder. 

“I physically cannot stop man.” Gareth dodged, reaching out for another cookie. “I’m not sorry.” 

Steve just laughed. All charming and buddy-buddy, like it was natural for him to be here. 

Wearing a Hellfire shirt. Making jokes and teasing the guys. 

In Eddie’s fucking place. 

He seethed, fingers twitching, and envisioned the very unsexy murder of one Steve Harrington.  

Cartoon X’s for eyes and all. 

xXx

Trouble didn't hit the table.

It in fact, seemed to stay away as if on purpose, to shove in Eddie's face that he was the one in the wrong here.

Even the questions toned done, as the second wave of moms showed up, this round prompted by some former teammate of Steve’s Eddie didn’t recognize yelling about his apple pie.

Instead, Eddie’s wayward sheep finally made their appearance Mike and Lucas trying to sneak in as if Eddie wouldn’t notice during the new rush.

(Eddie himself almost caused trouble when he realized Lucas was wearing a Not-A-Hellfire shirt, which solved the mystery of where Harrington had gotten his.

He was inching his way towards them, a snarky word on his tongue when he saw Sinclair said something about how he was “already on Eddie’s shitlist for joining the basketball team,” in relation to what must have been a question about his Hellfire shirt, that caused Eddie to freeze.

With the air of a sad, wet kitten, Lucas followed it with; “I’m sure it won’t be long before he kicks me out of Hellfire anyway.” 

Like he'd been punched in the gut, all the air left Eddie’s lungs.

Because before Lucas had said that, Eddie had been thinking it. 

Not really--he’d never kick anyone out of Hellfire.

It was more that he'd thought about it in the way one does when you know you're right, and are having to resort to underhanded tactics to force the other party to come to their senses.

Like a sort of shitty, angry “I should kick you out, let you see what happens when you don’t have us!” kind of innervation.

The same kind he had heard the jocks sling before, when they were mad at each other and--God he wasn’t--he couldn’t be, like them...could he?

Like fucking Harrington, who oh fuck, was patting Lucas sympathetically on the shoulder and giving him some kind of whispered advice. 

Sonovabitch. 

“I’m going for a smoke.” Eddie bit out, vision tunneling.

He knew he needed to go sit down somewhere, before he fucking lost it in front of Hawkin, Harrington and everyone. 

And wouldn’t that just be a treat for King Steve?

To watch Eddie realize he had turned into the very thing he hated, preached against, even? 

That Steve was, maybe, possibly, doing a better job of following Eddie’s own Munson Doctrine than he was?

Eddie barely saw the room anymore--waived off whatever Grant was trying to say to him as flew past, shaking hands fishing for a desperately needed cigarette.

Maybe a hope and a prayer too, because apparently he needed it.

How long had he been like this? 

Been a douchebag asshole? 

Was it the whole year? More than? Or was it just now, with stupid Steve involved? Could he trace this back to that stupidly cute--no, no, annoying, asshole?

Was this some fucked up way of coping with his growing crush!?

Lost in thought and growing self hatred he nearly careened right into Robin Buckley.

Her slightly bent paper reindeer ears marking her as a member of the band kids who had been absolutely butchering ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ a few minutes earlier. 

Vaguely heard her yell Steve’s name as he ran off (because that’s what he was doing. What he always did.

Run--from himself and his own fucking feelings, like a total cliche.)

--but didn’t take in that she was doing more than saying hi to, oh fuck him sideways--her friend.

Because she and Steve were friends.

Good ones, if the freshmen were to be believed.

Rather than go outside and catastrophize in the cold, Eddie threw himself threw the doors at the end of the hall, then up the stairwell, to the second floor.

Tucked himself right into a corner, right there by the stairs.

Sank down into a crouch, hands scrubbing up his face before tangling in his hair, head dropping between his knees, cigarette shoved into his mouth.

Somehow, Eddie decided, this was Steve’s fault. 

He'd have come up with a reason for that, he was sure. A good one even, except he forgot one of the key features of his life.

He was a Munson, and as a general rule of life, nice neat things did not happen to Munson's--but they did get kicked while they were down.

“Okay, what happened?” Steve fucking Harrington asked, voice loudly echoing up the stairwell from down below, and Eddie threw his head back, nearly slamming it against the wall. 

(Maybe he’d pissed off a witch. His life would make a lot more sense if someone had cursed it.)

“She gave me her number!”

That was Buckley, the shrill timber identifiable even as she whispered the words. 

Eddie can’t really see them without giving himself away--could probably make his escape if he got down and army-crawled past the railing he’s huddled by, but figured this is their fault anyway. 

Not his problem if he overhears a private conversation if they’re both too stupid to check to see if someone was seated literally right up above them.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?" Steve was saying. "That’s what we wanted!” 

“Is it!? What if she’s just, you know, giving it to me?” 

“...I’m not following.” 

“Like in a friend way. Not a--”

“Romantic way?”

Harrington has the smarts to say the words quietly.  So quietly in fact, that had Eddie not been in the exact right position he wouldn’t have heard--but he almost swallowed his unlit (he should have lit it, maybe they'd have smelled the smoke and fucked off) cigarette anyway. 

“Sssshh!” Robin hissed, and Eddie can’t see either of them but he imagined her jamming her hand over Harrington’s big fat mouth. 

“Not so loud, Steve!” 

“Sorry, God.” Sure enough, Harrington’s voice is muffled. “How did she give it to you? Did she say anything?” 

“She asked if I want to hang out after band, but because I have that stupid family thing, I told her I couldn’t today, but I can literally any other day, and she said she’d call me, and I said--” 

“Robs, breathe.” 

“Don’t interrupt me, Dingus!” Robin said, voice shrill again, before she clearly listened to Harrington and took a breath. 

 It was big, and deep, and she blasted it back out loud enough for the fucking birds on the roof to hear. 

In a calmer voice, Robin continued; “I said we never traded phone numbers so I didn’t have hers. She grabbed my arm and wrote her number on it. Look, she added a heart!” 

“Okay, here you go! A hearts a good sign!"  

And Harrington sounded--sounds happy for her, practically ecstatic, which doesn’t make much sense given Robin is talking about a ‘her’ and-

And-and-and--

Eddie’s always been quick to connect the dots. 

It’s something he inherited from his old man. A Munson trait he’s tried to make his own through being an excellent DM (and not by robbing people blind or boosting cars.) 

Here, the dots clearly screamed that Robin Buckley was trying to ask a woman out. 

You know, in a gay way. 

Which Harrington not only knew, but was supportive of. 

Steve Harrington, who famously called Jonathan Byers' a queer before smashing the guy's beloved camera into the ground. 

Eddie’s head exploded. 

Or was in the process of exploding--he’s not entirely sure given the tunnel vision was back and his soul felt like it had exited his body entirely. 

Just knew that his world was being remade for a second time in five minutes, and that he was dealing with it pretty damn poorly.

(Maybe God would be nice for once, and just give him the aneurism he clearly deserved.)

Which was of course, when trouble finally did decide to show face, in the form of Dustin Henderson barging through the doors and into Steve and Robin's little meeting.

Eddie knew, because Eddie could hear him.

“Steve! Steve we have a problem!” 

“I’m busy Dustin--”

“Be busy later, we have an emergency on our hands!” 

“And what, pray tell, do you think is an emergency?” 

Eddie, who had instantly latched onto the conversation by the sheer need to have something distract him from his own thoughts, wondered the very same.

“Jason Carver showed up at the table, with a priest. They’re trying to do some whole kind of crazy sermon--is that a good enough emergency for you!?” 

“Oh shit. ” Steve spat, at the same time Eddie yelled it from up high. 

He sprang up, all thoughts of Robin and Steve knowing he’d eavesdropped vanishing entirely from his head as he lunged for the stairs.

Flew down them, because the thing he'd been waiting all fucking day for had finally happened.

He nearly crashed into Robin once again as he blew through the barely closed doors, Steve and Dustin already far ahead of him.

“Eddie?” Robin asked, voice noticeably nervous. "Were you--"

"Not now Starbuck, but we can talk later." Eddie told her, flying right past.

After he saved Hellfire. 

[bornonthesavage]

Look, I appreciate a confident, competent Eddie as much as the next person. I’ll gobble that shit up in fics. But for me, Eddie Munson is a pathetic little freak. He’s a wet rat man. When describing Eddie, you could use the term “scampers”. He bites, and not always in the sexy way. That boy blushes and fumbles whenever Steve so much as smirks at him. He’s a nerdy little virgin who talks a big game and acts like he knows what he’s doing, only to come apart the second Steve so much as lays a hand on him. He’s a horrible little gremlin, and I LOVE that about him. That’s MY Eddie Munson.

[doomcheese]

@steddie-island wrote THIS magical thing, and it immediately took over my brain and my evening because I just needed Steve with ✨bells on✨ (please go read and share in my glee!)

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: Hop & Joyce don't really like or trust Steve & he knows it. He can tell by their behavior towards him. Post spring break from Hell, Steve tears into them both after they insinuate that it's his fault for the kids being hurt. Steve YELLING at them in front of the party bc he is injured more grievously than the kids & he once again protected them, to the detriment of himself.

Joyce & Hop are forced to acknowledge that their behavior was cruel. And they have to apologize but Steve doesn't accept their apology straight away.

I am usually such a sucker for Hopper adopting Steve and treating him as his own that this was really difficult. Like, maybe top 5 most difficult things I have ever written. It's kind of short, but I wanted more of the focus to be on people standing up for Steve and Steve standing up for himself than the actual angsty part. My darling, I hope it lives up to expectations! -Mickala ❤️

------------------------------------------------------------

“I guess I just don’t understand how Max ended up like this if Steve was supposed to be protecting them all.”

Joyce’s words echoed in Steve’s head.

She was whispering to Hopper in the waiting room, but it was surprisingly quiet, and easy to hear just about anything.

The kids were asleep on the couches, waiting for any news on Max or Eddie, but the nurses told them it could be hours. Hours were a long time to wait when someone was bleeding out and the other someone had multiple broken bones and was unconscious.

Steve felt untethered, his connection to the earth cut the moment he saw what happened to Eddie, pushed into a dangerous orbit when he saw what happened to Max.

“He’s never really let me down like this. Did you hear Dustin say he thinks he was distracted by Eddie?” Hopper asked quietly.

“What did he mean by that?” Joyce paused. “Oh. Do you think so?” Steve couldn’t see their faces, couldn’t see the way they were having a silent conversation within a conversation. “It wouldn’t be the first time Steve let his romantic feelings get in the way of their safety.”

And that really wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair because he always put these kids who weren’t even his first whenever he could. It wasn’t fair because it wasn’t his job to be perfect. It wasn’t fair because they were the adults who should have been here to help and they weren’t.

He could feel tears building up, his vision getting just blurry enough that he knew he needed to walk away or he would start actually crying, and he couldn’t let anyone see that.

Especially not Joyce and Hopper.

Apparently, they already thought so little of him, he couldn’t possibly show them that he was struggling now.

“I think we’ll have to have a talk with the kids about trusted adults. They seem to rely on him for a lot and maybe if we just explain to them that Steve can’t handle it-”

“Excuse me, Mr. Hopper?” A nurse, thankfully, interrupted them.

Steve turned to see a young nurse, probably barely older than him, standing in the entranceway to the waiting room.

Hopper walked over to her, actually whispering this time, as if what was being said right now was a secret, but not the way he felt about Steve.

He glanced over at Steve, then nodded to the nurse. He called Joyce over to them, whispered something, then they both looked at Steve.

He hated what was happening. He was used to being a disappointment to adults, but in a silent way. His parents weren’t really ever around long enough to show their disappointment for long. Seeing it now, on the faces of people he respected and wanted to impress, hurt.

Hopper started walking over to him, his face serious.

“They have Max stable. She may not wake up from the coma, but they’re hoping she makes a turn for the better soon. Eddie woke up a few minutes ago while they were trying to stitch him up and he kept yelling for you. He isn’t quite stable yet. He passed back out as they were trying to put him on oxygen.”

“But they’re both alive?”

“For now.”

“Can I see Max?”

“I don’t think that’s a great idea right now. They’re trying to reach her mom, but the phone lines keep going down. I’m standing in as the adult responsible until she can be contacted.”

“So now you want to be the adult responsible? Not any other time when we needed you?” Erica said from behind them.

She’d been asleep with Lucas and El only a minute ago.

“Erica, it’s fine. I’ll just wait with you guys.”

“No, Steve, it’s not fine.” Erica put her hands on her hips, scowled up at Hopper and Joyce, who had just joined them. “Steve looks out for us every day. Even when the world isn’t trying to end. He drives us to school or from school or to the arcade, he pays for our food at the diner all the time, probably spends all his paychecks on us. And where are the parents? They don’t even know where we are most of the time.”

“But-” Joyce started to interrupt until Erica held up her hand.

“You left your kids to fly to Russia when you knew something weird was going on. You could have died, and then what? You know who would have stepped in? Steve. Because that’s what he does for us. Do you know one of his worst concussions was because he was protecting Lucas and Max from Billy? You know he drove Max everywhere she needed to go all year because she didn’t wanna be around anyone else? How about the fact that without him, we wouldn’t have even been able to get Eddie back here? But sure, blame him for this. It totally makes sense to point the finger at the one person who has protected us over and over again.”

Steve was crying.

The other kids were starting to wake up from her voice getting louder as she spoke, and it didn’t take long for them to realize what was happening.

El and Dustin surrounded Steve, cuddling into his sides to comfort him. He needed it, and he was always willing to accept love from the kids. They so rarely gave it, not because they didn’t love him, but because they were at that age where they didn’t want to.

These kids were his in almost every way that mattered, and he was just grateful that they weren’t hesitating when he needed them most.

“You kids could have died. Steve should have never allowed most of this to happen. He’s the adult, and he let you all go into this without even considering you could die.”

“You think we were just gonna sit around and wait for the adults to handle it? When have we ever done that?” Dustin asked incredulously.

“It’s what you should have done. Steve knows that.”

“Mr. Harrington?” A different nurse was standing in the doorway now, older, definitely less nervous.

“Yes?” Steve responded, wiping his tears away quickly.

“Mr. Munson is in a recovery room. He’s woken up a few times for a minute and each time he’s asked for you. Are you family?”

He was pretty certain hospital policy meant only family could go back, especially during natural disasters, so he lied.

“Yes, he’s my cousin. I can’t reach anyone else yet.”

The nurse smiled, though she probably didn’t quite believe him.

“Right this way, then.”

Dustin tugged on his arm.

“Can I come with you?”

“Sorry,” Steve shook his head. “Not yet. Let me check on him, and I’ll come right back out for you.”

“See? This is what I meant about letting his feelings get in the way! What if we weren’t here? Would you just leave the kids to sit out here alone?”

This time, El spoke up.

“Steve is always putting us first. He can put himself first sometimes. That is allowed.”

Steve wanted to hug her again, but the nurse looked like she was going to walk away, and if he didn’t follow her, he wouldn’t see Eddie.

“Go see him, we’ll be here,” Lucas said from next to Erica.

He nodded at them all, giving them a smile before he followed the nurse without looking back at Hopper or Joyce.

Eddie was asleep when they entered the room, so the nurse whispered to him at the door.

“He’s on a lot of morphine, and he’s still receiving a blood transfusion. He may wake up off and on, but he probably won’t make much sense until they lower the dose. Just be here for him,” she smiled before leaving the room.

Steve turned to Eddie and couldn’t hold back more tears.

He’d let him down. He’d let all of them down.

He was supposed to be the hero, despite the jokes about it all, they all knew he was.

But not this time.

Eddie almost died. Max almost died.

He could feel the bat bite on his stomach burning and itching, like it was already getting infected, but he ignored it.

He could wait.

He sat down on the side of the bed, slowly so he wouldn’t wake Eddie up.

But Eddie’s eyes fluttered open once, then twice, then a third time before they managed to stay open enough to see Steve.

“Stevie?” His voice rasped out, a small smile hidden under his oxygen mask. “You’re here.”

“I’m here, Eds.”

He had to be strong, but his brain was so focused on everything he’d done wrong and if he’d just been faster or got out of the vines quicker, Eddie probably wouldn’t be here and Max would be awake and-

“Stop.”

“Hm? Stop what?”

“Bein’ mean.”

Steve’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t even said anything else, had he? Was he so exhausted that he was actually talking without realizing it now?

“I’m not even saying anything.”

Maybe it was Eddie hearing things. He knew morphine was pretty intense.

“To yourself.”

“What?”

“Bein’ mean to yourself. In your head.”

“I-”

“‘S okay. Me too sometimes. Just gotta stop.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at the way Eddie’s eyes kept drooping closed as he spoke. He would probably fall back asleep any second.

“I’ll be nice. You get some sleep.”

“You rest?”

“Not yet. Maybe later.”

Steve couldn’t really rest until he knew everyone was home, safe, and sleeping off some of the worst of their injuries.

“Yes yet.”

Steve snorted. Eddie was so high. He knew it was better than whatever pain he would feel when they eased him off of everything, but hopefully he wouldn’t remember all this.

“Sleep,” Eddie said, his hand managing to find Steve’s and tugging weakly on it.

“I can’t sleep here, Eds. This is your bed.”

“Our bed.”

Steve’s cheeks were hot, he knew if he touched them, they’d feel like fire. Eddie just had that way of completely rendering Steve speechless. He’d done it so many times over the last couple of days, Steve lost count.

“I’ll stay right here until your uncle gets here, okay?”

“And after?”

It probably wasn’t smart. It would look weird for him to stay in general, but he also had to get the kids home, try to patch himself up at home, maybe shower before he did some rounds and made sure everyone was taken care of.

“I have to take care of the kids.”

“But they have parents.”

“Yeah, well.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Hopper walked in, face as serious as Steve had ever seen it.

“I was able to contact your uncle, Eddie. You can go now, Steve.”

But Eddie gripped his hand harder, frowning at Hopper. He seemed more awake all of a sudden, but with the way his eyes kept trying to close, Steve could see it was a challenge.

“I want him here.”

“Eds, it’s fine. He’s not too happy with me right now, so-”

“What? Why? You helped save the world.”

Eddie was looking between Steve and Hopper like an answer would suddenly make itself known, but Hopper was just staring at Eddie, and Steve was just staring at his feet.

He didn’t want to get Eddie involved in this. He just wanted to pretend it never happened, maybe try to look Hopper in the eye again someday, and apologize to Joyce for not keeping the kids as safe as he could have.

But Eddie apparently took the “no running” thing very seriously now.

“Steve? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just. I kinda let them down, didn’t keep everyone safe.”

Steve shrugged it off, but he knew he wasn’t very convincing, or really even shrugging it off. He still felt the ache of disappointing people in his chest.

“Hold the fuck up. You’re serious?”

Eddie sounded as outraged as someone high on morphine could. His voice was barely distorted by the oxygen mask on his face, and his eyes were nearly at their normal size.

Steve couldn’t look at either of them.

“Steve is trusted by all these parents to keep their kids out of danger, and he brought them headfirst into it. It just made Joyce and I wonder how often they were doing stupid things,” Hopper explained, though he didn’t even sound convinced he believed his own words.

Joyce was walking in just as Eddie was about to speak.

“Steve, I think you should bring Dustin home. Claudia is going to get worried.”

He didn’t need to look up to know that Eddie was glaring at Joyce and Hopper.

“Let me get this straight. Steve provides free rides, and babysitting services, and meals, and fun for your kids damn near every day. He protects them during this shit every time it happens, literally puts his body on the line to keep them alive. Tried to somehow keep them as safe as possible when it seemed like the world was ending this time, did keep them alive, and you’re still finding reasons to blame him?”

They both had the decency to at least look like they regretted it.

But they still didn’t say anything.

“Fuck this. I’m not gonna pretend to know everything about your little Upside Down Club, but I’m in it now. None of us wanna be here, but we are. Steve’s been doing his best for years, since he was a kid, and all you can do is complain that your sweet angels aren’t completely unscathed? This is a team effort, you know that. They volunteered. Steve would have had to lock them in a prison cell for them not to help.”

Steve looked up at Eddie, watched as he started to lose the fire that had overtaken him temporarily, his eyes dulling as the morphine dripped into his veins and flushed through his system.

“Best damn babysitter…” Eddie mumbled as his eyes fell closed.

Steve watched him for a moment, waiting to see if he suddenly woke up again. When he didn’t, he stood up slowly, didn’t want to risk him feeling the bed move, and made his way to the door.

But something hurt in his chest, something he knew wouldn’t go away unless he said something.

He turned to see Hopper and Joyce staring at each other, having a silent conversation.

“I’m used to disappointing people. I’ve been disappointing my parents my whole life. Disappointed friends, Nancy, bosses. But I have never let those kids down. I do my best with them. I try to be there for them the way I wish someone had been there for me. I make sure they’re kids because life handed them a shitty card or whatever and they deserve to still be kids. You can be mad at me if you want, but I know I did my best. They know I did my best.”

He didn’t wait for a response, didn’t want to hear them say anything else about how wrong his decisions were.

But Joyce stopped him from leaving the room, hand on his arm.

“Steve, wait. Honey, I’m sorry. I think…I think we got caught up in the moment and just needed someone to blame.”

“You do the best you can. We know you do a lot for them.”

It was nice to hear, but he couldn’t get over the uncomfortable itch in the back of his head that he deserved more than that.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I can accept the apology right now.” And then the anger really set in. It came over him so fast, he could feel his hands shaking. “A lot of things are out of our control. We all wanna blame someone for this stuff, but it just boils down to the same people over and over. Max is in a coma because of Henry Creel, not me. Eddie is in the hospital because of demon bats, not me. Eleven and Will are connected to the Upside Down because of the government, not me. I’m just trying to be whatever they need, and that’s better than I can say for either of you at this point.” Steve left this time, Joyce dropping her hand from his arm halfway through his loud speech.

Okay, he was yelling.

But Eddie slept through it, and it felt good to get all of that out.

He made his way to the waiting room, hoping everyone would still be there so he could check in.

Everything felt too fresh, too much like Vecna could show back up and take any of them at any moment.

But the waiting room was empty, not even Dustin remained.

Steve did his best not to panic. Their parents had all been contacted, so they most likely had just been picked up and brought home.

“They’ve all been picked up, sugar,” an older nurse said from the front desk.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“They left you a note, though.”

He recognized her as the woman who had been here the whole night, handling phone calls and people walking in like she’d been doing this for decades. Maybe she had been.

He walked over and grabbed it from her, giving her a small smile in thanks.

He walked outside before he opened it, not sure why he was suddenly nervous.

But as he read, he felt tears in his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Steve- Go home and sleep. We’ll be okay for a day while you rest. You don’t ever do that. We don’t agree with Joyce and Hopper, and we hope you know you’re the best damn babysitter ever. Love, Dustin, Lucas, Erica, El, Will, Mike, and Max (if she could)

He folded up the note, put it in his pocket, and walked to his car.

He ignored the blood in the backseat, rolled his windows down to ignore the stench of iron.

Knew he would be spending most of his day tomorrow trying to clean the stains out, but figured it would be a good mindless task.

He thought about Eddie, about how quick he was to defend him. About how he’d gripped his hand like it was a lifeline.

It felt that way to Steve.

He hadn’t let Eddie down. He’d saved Eddie.

If he didn’t do anything else right, he’d done that, and nothing Joyce or Hopper said could take that away.

[imfinereallyy]

Passengers

It took Robin three years to get her license. Which all things considered, the twice apocalyptic experiences, and, ya know, being poor, wasn’t too bad in her opinion.

20 was as good as any age to get behind the wheel of a vehicle.

Okay, if she was honest with herself, really honest, maybe her calculations were off. It wasn’t three years exactly. She could have gotten her license at 16; hell, she could have gotten her permit at 15. So it quite honestly had taken four, five years max to get her license.

But the first two years didn’t count to Robin.

She didn’t even give a thought to driving until she was 17, and Steve was driving her every day without question. She hadn’t thought about it until Steve threw his keys at her, telling her to drive, that Robin realized he was driving her every day because he wanted to, not because she was a license-less loser.

It cracked Robin open when she finally had time to think about it. After all the blood, and gore, and almost losing Steve several times, it hit her that this dingus really wanted her by his side.

So, Steve was really to blame if she ever got into a car accident. Sure, he didn’t push her to get behind the metal contraption, but Robin wanted to pay him back somehow, for all the rides and love over the years.

That was how now, Robin was seething in regret as she drove the rest of the way home, in the dark, from their road trip.

See, when Robin had pictured them doing things like this, it had just been the two of them. Steve in the passenger seat, arguing over music and the best car snacks. Windows down, yelling about who fucking cares, and just laughing their way through different states.

Robin hadn’t taken into account there might be other people involved in her bestie road trip fantasies. No, instead, it wasn’t the terrible two, platonic soulmate extravaganza she pictured. Instead it now involved them, Steve’s ex-turned-best friend, whom Robin had a horrible crush on, Nancy Wheeler, and a sweet metalhead who Robin saw as a brother, and Steve had a huge soul-consuming crush on Eddie Munson.

Robin begrudgingly would admit the additional two had made the trip better, so she didn’t have too many complaints. Actually, in reality, Robin only had one big hang-up about the whole thing.

Steve was in the back seat.

Which would have been fine if Robin had been there too, but she wasn’t. It was her stupid turn to drive in the home stretch of their way home. Instead, Robin had Nancy beside her. Which should have brought her joy but instead made her nervous and clammy and not at all suited to be behind the wheel of the death contraption they called a car. Plus, Nancy was asleep.

Her snores were pretty cute though.

Robin seethed silently; it was Eddie’s fault. He positively insisted on sitting with Steve in the back. Something which Robin would normally tease the both of them for, the oblivious idiots that they were, but Robin was a possessive little creature. It was a trait of hers she tried to bury deep down. She knew people didn’t like that; they didn’t like when people clung. Didn’t like that she felt like baring her teeth, even sometimes wanted to actually bite at people who tried to pry her people away from her.

It was funny, really; the only person who understood that part of her was Steve himself, which made her possessive side come out even more. Like seeks like, and crazy seeks crazy.

God, if she was every lucky enough to get a girlfriend, she was screwed.

Robin had resisted looking in the review mirror for twenty minutes. Probably not safe, but driving angrily wasn’t either, and if she saw the two of them giggling like school girls, she was gonna flip the car.

But Robin was never good at resisting temptation. She was most definitely the child who would touch the plate after someone told her it was too hot. So Robin took a glance, shoulders tense and mouth dry, and saw—

Well, shit. Robin melted. There in the back seat with their heads leaned against each other were Steve and Eddie, sound asleep.

The edges of Robin softened; she remembered Steve pinching his nose earlier, eyes squinting on his turn to drive. She had been in the passenger seat then. She had wanted to ask but instead said nothing, knowing he would wave her off. So she claimed her turn to drive, and then Eddie had been insistent that Steve come in the back with him and—

Robin was getting it now. Although Eddie had a big fat gay crush on Steve. That wasn’t why he wanted to be with Steve in the back. He had noticed, too. The edges of sleep deprivation creeping slowly into an oncoming migraine for Steve. Eddie had seen Steve pushing himself, and somehow also knew that if Steve stayed in the front, he would feel obligated to stay awake.

Robin hadn’t realized that, Eddie didn’t just want Steve; he paid attention to him. Eddie noticed Steve the way Robin noticed him.

Robin spared another glance at the two of them, wrapped around each other like vines snaking up an old oak tree. The last of her anger seemed to fade away. Even after all this time, none of them got a lot of sleep. Steve, most of all, seemed to run on fumes. Robin knew he couldn’t sleep soundly alone, but also couldn’t fall asleep around just anyone. For a long time, Robin had been his only cure for his insomnia. Steve never dared to fall asleep in front of strangers, afraid he’d scare them with his screams.

But here Steve was, in the arms of the man that he loves, not a single worry line on his face as he slept the rest of the trip away.

Robin knew, with certainty, Steve felt safe.

And because of that, Robin thought wistfully to herself, if Eddie Munson ever wants a turn at being a passenger, she wouldn’t mind taking the wheel for him, too.

***

a short lil thing to get me back in my writing grove. Is inspired by a friend of mine who is in her 20s and doesn’t drive. It’s totally okay and everyone moves at their own pace! And also I’m definitely a person who likes to drive others around as a sign of love (I am Steve coded I am beginning to realize)

Sorry if this isn’t any good, or seems rushed. Writers block is a bitch.

[steddieonbigboy]

Abnormal Behaviours

written for @steddiemicrofic march prompt ‘pin’ wc: 388 | rated: T | cw: none | read on ao3

📌📌📌

"What's a three letter word for badge?"

They're sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee in the late morning light, and enjoying a rare day off together when Steve interrupts the Dio tape Eddie has playing over on the counter. It takes Eddie a moment to remember how to form words before he can offer a response to the crossword clue Steve has just thrown at him.

"Uhh pin?"

"Yeah that works, so what about 'not you'?"

"Me?"

"Sure, yep," Steve scratches his nose as he scans the newspaper, "Okay how about 'opposed to' for seven letters?"

"Against?"

"And, um, 1979 album by Pink Floyd?"

"The Wall? Hey, wait a second," Eddie grabs the puzzle pages from Steve's hands and stares at the blank sheet before looking up with a laugh, "You little shit!"

"C'mon Ed's," Steve grins unrepentant, "When have I ever willingly done a crossword? And to answer your question, yes. Yes, I will pin you against the wall."

"Did you seriously make fake crossword clues to get me to ask you that?"

"Robin helped."

"Robin help- well of course she did, neither of you can function without the other."

"Yeah, we're like guinea pigs."

"Stevie, baby," Eddie pinches his nose before taking a deep breath, "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"What? It's true! They get lonely without a friend," Steve sits up straight from where he's been slouching against the kitchen table, "And one of the books we read said that they can 'develop abnormal behaviours' if left alone and that's us!"

"Okay, two things. One, why have you read multiple books about guinea pigs? And two, why have you read multiple books about guinea pigs?"

"Oh, so it's fine for you to read multiple books on random subjects," Steve pouts, "But when I do it, it's weird?"

"It is when the subject matter is guinea pigs!"

"Me and Robin were thinking about getting one," Steve shrugs, "So, we were being responsible pet owners and doing some research first, and now we know that we have to get two!"

"Look, not that I don't love the idea or anything, but can we please get back to you pinning me against the wall?"

"Nope. In fact, I think we should go pick Robin up and go to the pet store instead."

[standatsvthoughts]

Robin and Eddie: *somehow accidentally sets the kitchen on fire

Eddie: we need an adult!

Robin: Eddie, you are an adult!

Eddie: we need an adultier adult! Get Steve!!

[munsonsduchess]

The reason Steve got not bitches in ST3 and 4 is because Robin saw the line of girls trying to get with Steve for purely aesthetic or shady reasons and said none of them were good enough.

Then one day Eddie comes into Scoops and stammers his way through ordering an ice cream cone and Robin decided there and then “that one”

It’s the only reason that makes sense

[unfinishedslurs]

jock on jock violence (past steve/tommy)

“Just leave people alone, Tommy,” Harrington says lowly. Dangerously. Harrington’s always been dangerous, in the way that straight, entitled jocks have always been dangerous to Eddie, but sometimes Eddie thinks he dropped the crown to pick up a sword. There’s something sharper about him now, something that wasn’t there before Halloween. Different from the fake smiles and shifty eyes after the Byers kid went missing. Not that Eddie’s been looking. 

“Leave them alone?” Hagan demands. “Like how you left me alone?” And wow, is he delusional? Did he just completely forget about his girlfriend, Hargrove, and the entire fucking basketball team?

“Not everything is about you! Seriously, man? You’re just gonna twist what I’m saying like that?” Harrington snaps, and oh, Eddie doesn’t want to be here for this. If the former king and his old lackey duke it out, he does not want to get caught in the crossfire. “Jesus, grow up. Sorry I got sick of being a total dick.”

“Oh, yeah, now you’re just sucking Byers’s—“

“You want to go there? Do you really wanna go there, Tommy?”

Shit, Eddie should not be here for this. 

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Hagan says, suddenly panicked. 

“I thought you liked my mouth.”

Eddie has to practically stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from sputtering. 

“What the fuck, man,” Hagan hisses. Eddie knows he’s looking around, even though no one’s in the bathroom except them and Eddie. And Eddie’s never going to breathe a fucking word of this to anyone, on account of not wanting his face rearranged ten times over. “What, are you some kind of fag now? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Harrington almost sounds bored when he replies. “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

“I told you to watch your mouth.”

“You gonna shut me up?”

“What has gotten into you?” Hagan finally asks the million dollar question. Harrington’s acting like he’s got a fucking death wish. “One minute we’re calling out Byers for being a creep, and the next you’re dumping me like it’s nothing. And now you’re suddenly best buds? Even after he stole your girlfriend twice? You know how pathetic that is, right? What, do you share her or something? The slut putting out—“

There’s a rustle of clothes, and then a thud, like something—someone getting slammed into a wall. 

“Don’t talk about Nancy like that,” Harrington growls. “This isn’t about her.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No, man, it’s about you being a total asshole, and I’m telling you to leave people the fuck alone.”

“Or what?” Hagan almost sounds amused, over obvious nerves. He’s not even trying to escape the hold he’s in. “I’m stronger than you, and we both know it. You’ve still got a concussion, don’t you? Hargrove told me he beat your face in.”

“Hargrove this, Hargrove that. You sound like you’ve got a crush or something. You suck him like you sucked me?”

Jesus fucking Christ. 

“You can’t win this fight, Steve.”

“I don’t need to. Mutually assured destruction, asshole. You stop hurting people, and I won’t tell the entire town about us.”

Oh shit. Oh shit. Harrington sounds serious. It almost makes him sick to his stomach, even as a hysterical laugh tries to bubble out. Who woulda guessed that the former king of Hawkins High had enough guts to paint himself as a queer to their conservative, stick in the mud town?

That is, if Hagan doesn’t fucking kill him first. 

“You wouldn’t.” Hagan sounds panicked now, and for good fucking reason. He’s been on the “right” end of what happens to their kind of freaks for years. How quickly would the vultures turn on him? They descended on Harrington pretty damn quick. 

“Wanna bet?”

“You do that, you lose everything. Peace, daddy’s money, your precious sports scholarships…”

“I’m not going to college,” Harrington says. “Look in my eyes, Hagan. Do I look like I’m bluffing? I’ve got nothing to lose.”

Eddie has to keep in a scoff at that. If there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that there’s always something to lose with shit like this. Namely your life. 

This is fucked. This is so fucked. Eddie wants out of this stall, Jesus H. Christ. He’d take Mrs. Smith’s class anyday over knowing one wrong move will end with two jocks beating his fucking face in for hearing something he wasn’t supposed to hear. Or potentially having to jump in to try and save Harrington’s stupid fucking mug. 

There’s a long pause that does absolutely nothing for Eddie’s nerves, before Hagan finally spits out, “Fine.”

“What was that?”

“Fine.”

“Good man,” Harrington says, as if they’re discussing some kind of business deal and not outing themselves in front of God and Mrs. Jenkins and everyone. “Now get the fuck outta here, Tommy.”

Rustling, quick footsteps, and then the door opens and shuts without a word. 

Silence.

Eddie sighs in relief. 

“Hello?” Harrington asks, voice on edge. 

Shit. 

His stall door swings open, and there he is, in all his fallen kingly glory. Bruise over one eye, scowl on his face, and dangerous set to his shoulders that Eddie knows all too well. 

“Uhh, hi?” Eddie squeaks. He’s still sitting like fucking Gollum, feet on the toilet, unlit cigarette in hand. He drops it, and neither of them look away from each other as it rolls behind the toilet bowl. 

Excellent first impression, really. 

“What the fuck, man?” Harrington asks. “Were you just listening to that?”

“Look,” Eddie says quickly. “In my defense, I was here first. Also, if he saw me, Hagan was definitely going to beat me up. Except, uh, you’re definitely going to kick my ass anyway for hearing that, so I probably should just cut my losses and accept death at this point.”

Harrington doesn’t seem to know what to say to this, mouth opening and closing slowly. 

“Also, for the record?” Eddie says. “I won’t say anything. I know you have, like, zero reason to trust me, but I’m really good at secrets, dude, like you wouldn’t believe. I haven’t even told Jeff that Gareth—anyways, secrets? What secrets? I didn’t hear anything. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

He gets a scathing look in return. “If you tell anyone—“

“Wait, wait, wait! You said something about mutually assured destruction, right? I get it. I get it, Harrington, fuck, you know I do. Who would believe me if I blabbed, anyway? Who are they gonna believe, the King or the Freak?”

Harrington sighs, but he must see the truth in what Eddie said because he moves away from the stall. Takes a wad of paper towels and starts running them under the sink. 

It emboldens Eddie enough to follow him. “I mean, really, they’d probably just call it wishful thinking or something. Plus, I’m pretty sure most of the school would rather die than talk to me, so, like, you’re safe, man. I’ve already blacked it out in my memory, it’s gone.”

It seems like Harrington has tuned him out, pressing the wet paper towels to his forehead and eye. That’s good, because Eddie doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore. 

“Also, for the record? That was badass. I don’t think I’d have the guts to do that, even if the entire town kind of knows about me anyway. Which, wow, you were really good at hiding it. Hagan I kind of suspected, given the giant fucking boner he had for you, but you—“

“Do you ever shut up?”

Eddie’s mouth shuts with a click. Harrington sighs again and pinches his nose, looking almost like a mother trying to herd her seven rambunctious children into the minivan. His hands are shaking.  

“You okay, man?” Eddie finally asks quietly. 

Harrington doesn’t say anything, just presses the paper towels over both eyes, like he’s trying to stave something off. Oh, shit, is he…

“Are you…crying?”

“What? No,” Harrington says, obviously lying. “It’s the light, I get headaches. Concussion.”

“Right.”

“Look, can we just forget this ever happened?”

“Already forgotten,” he promises. “But, uh, for the record? That was really brave of you, man.”

“I wouldn’t have gone through with it.”

“That actually kind of surprises me, because I could not tell from your voice. You sounded like you were ready to march up to The Post then and there and spill all Hagan’s dirty little secrets. All ‘I’ve got nothing to lose,’ and shit.” He pitches his voice lower, in a mimic of some action movie hero or something. 

Harrington finally laughs, and something in Eddie thrills at it. “I pulled that outta my ass,” he admits. “I knew he would believe it, ‘cause to him I already did lose everything. My friends, my girlfriend, my…”  he waves his hand around, “my status, or whatever. And a few screws, probably.”

“Well I can attest to the screws, because I think you might be actually insane. You cornered him in an empty bathroom without checking to see if it was actually empty and threatened to out him to the entire town? I thought I was going to have to save your life, Jesus shit. Don’t fucking do that, do you have a death wish or something?”

“I did check,” Harrington snaps. “I looked under the stalls, and none of the doors were locked. Who the hell sits on a toilet like that anyway? You looked like one of those ugly stone fuckers, the ones they put on buildings and shit.”

Eddie bursts out laughing, too incredulous to be offended. “You mean gargoyles?”

“Whatever. Besides, Hagan won’t kill me. He’s too much of a coward.”

“I hate to break it to you, Harrington, but cowards are dangerous too.”

“Not Tommy’s kind of coward” Harrington says. “Not to me.” He wonders about the surety in his voice. Does he think Hagan still has feelings for him? Ex-boyfriends can be the worst kind of assholes. Hell hath no fury like a man scorned. Harrington gives him a look, like he knows exactly what he’s thinking. “He’s a bully and an asshole, but he doesn’t have the guts,” he insists. “He’s no Hargrove.”

Eddie sneers. “Hargrove. The guy’s a fucking psycho.”

“Tell me about it,” Harrington says dryly. He finally looks at Eddie, eyes him up and down. Eddie could take him, honestly, he’s scrappy and Hagan wasn’t lying when he said everyone knows Harrington can’t win a fight. Pair that with the concussion he’s sporting, and it’d probably take a love tap to take him down. But he doesn’t want to. 

“You’re probably better off without Hagan anyway,” he offers helpfully. It doesn’t work, just makes Harrington look like a kicked puppy, damaged and sad and cold. It makes Eddie want to take him in as one of his little lost sheep, honestly, which is an impulse he pushes far, far down. Abdicated or not, a king is no fit for a freak’s friend. Even if he and Byers have been pretty friendly. 

“I know,” he says. “But he was still my friend, you know? Like, the first one I ever had. Maybe that’s why it took me so long to realize.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. There’s an awkward silence, where Harrington turns his focus back to the mirror. Eddie clears his throat and tries to lighten the mood. “So, you and Byers…”

The look he receives could make the Demogorgon shake in his boots. “Don’t you have a class to fail or something? You should probably go to that before—”

The bell interrupts Harrington perfectly, and he snaps his mouth shut. Eddie snorts. 

“Think it’s a little late for that, but I know a dismissal when I see one. See you around, Harrington.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hey, remember—“

“I know,” he calls behind him, striding for the door. “Mutually assured destruction!”

Leaving the bathroom feels like being reborn a whole new man. He swears the air is cleaner than it ever was before he went in. His last glance behind himself shows Harrington looking in the mirror, no sign of moving as the door shuts. 

As he’s walking to his next class, he spies Wheeler and Byers huddled together, whispering. They look worried. 

They both startle when he speaks. “If you’re looking for Harrington,” he says quietly, stopping next to them, “check the smoke bathroom, by the band hall. I think he’s still in there.”

Wheeler’s brows furrow, but Byers gives him a nod, already moving. Eddie moves along as Wheeler shoots him a quick look of gratitude before following, books hugged to her chest. 

Eddie doesn’t know what’s going on between the three of them, but he kind of wants to now, especially considering Harrington’s non-answer when he asked. He doubts Wheeler is a cover-up, not after her and Harrington’s breakup and the quiet, lovey-dovey honeymoon phase she and Byers seem to be having. The one that kind of seems to tear Harrington to pieces sometimes, even as he sits with them and walks to class with them and even hangs out with them outside of school, if Jeff really saw the three of them at the diner together last week. Maybe Steve Harrington’s a secret masochist.

Then he remembers the bruise yellowing around his eye, the weird tension he has with the guy who beat him up last year. The way he damn near begged Hagan to beat his ass in the bathroom. Not so secret, then. 

Whatever. It’s none of Eddie’s business. He’s gonna soil his reputation if he keeps focusing on Hawkins royalty like this. Never mind the way Harrington’s soiled his own reputation enough. So what if King Steve isn’t king anymore? He’s still just another pretty face. 

A pretty face, with nice arms and big eyes and thighs. And he’s queer, and doesn’t seem like the kind of closeted that would have the usual jock shove him away after getting a blowie. Shit.

His lungs itch for the cigarette he never got to smoke. Too bad the bathroom is occupied.

[jadewritesficshere]

Hold me close as you drift off to sleep

Eddie Munson x reader

Eddie spends the night for the first time

Contents: no use of gendered pet names,, no physical descriptions of reader but clothes are described, mentions of nervousness, mentions of sharing a toothbrush which leads to mentions of spit kink, no actual smut but allusions to it,

MDNI 18+ only

You slowly looked over your pajama choice in the mirror. A pair of warm plaid pants and a t-shirt from years ago that was faded and soft in the most comfortable way. You weren't sure why you were so nervous about this, you and Eddie had seen each other in many different clothes and lack thereof.

But there was something different about spending the first night together. The first time sleeping together, and by sleeping you actually mean it in the sense of the word. Snoozing. Dreaming. Resting. Snoring-

Oh God what if you snored? You bit your lip as the anxiety started to rise. You didn't think you snored, but what if you did? What if you walked in your sleep? Or worse, what if you talked and shared all your secrets (the most important being you loved Eddie, but you didn't think it was that big of a secret).

The door to your bedroom creaked open, causing your eyes to dart over. Eddie walks in, dumping his clothes on the floor. The white tank top clings to his lean torso, the ill fitting red plaid pants rolled up at the hems. Eddie smiles at you slightly before sighing loudly. You stomach turns until Eddie gestures to his pants," Well, one of us is gonna have to change."

A laugh escapes you just as your worries do. This is Eddie. Your Eddie. There is no need to be nervous.

You walk over to the bed and crawl in," Should have packed a bag just in case. You saw the forecast was calling for snow." Eddie scoffs slightly but crawls into bed," You're my weather.. guide? the weather diviner...the weather-" "meteorologist" "Yeah that! You're that. Wayne watches the news, not me. They just want you to see one side." Eddie pulls the blankets up to his chin and bats his lashes at you," You're my meteorologist and you didn't tell me. Almost like you wanted this to happen."

You smile as you roll your eyes," Yes Edward, I wanted you all to myself and chose to not tell you so that way you had to borrow clothes from whatever was left here by Steve and Robin." "Oh, I'm not borrowing, these are mine now. Finders keepers." Eddie winks at you.

Eddie reaches over and turns off the lamp, letting the room go dark. You blink your eyes a few times, adjusting to the lack of light. You can feel the dip in the bed where Eddie is laying next to you. Your hands almost touching. Hear his breathing cut through the deafening silence.

You look over at Eddie and find him already staring at you. "Sorry if I snore," you mumble looking into his eyes. Eddie brings up a finger and traces your cheekbone," Don't worry about it. Wayne snores, won't bother me if you sound like a chainsaw." You huff and go to turn away but Eddie holds your face towards him.

"Goodnight." Eddie whispers as he leans in and kisses you lightly. Its soft, sweet, and almost shy. You grin into the kiss. Eddie sighs and pulls back a fraction, lips barely touching. You can feel his breath against your face. You can smell peppermint- wait.

"You brush your teeth?" You ask. Eddie hums an affirmative, " Yup. Got my molars and everything. Rinsed your brush really wel-" "My brush?" Eddie looks a bit sheepish as you gape at him," My brush Edward? That's-! What? Eddie!"

Eddie blushes," We've swapped spit when kissing-" "That's different!" "Is it?". You roll away as Eddie makes grabbing hands and tries to keep you facing him. You evade his grasp and stare at the wall, feeling Eddie wrap his arms around your waist,"I'm sorry?"

You can't help but smile as Eddie kisses up and down your neck, apologizing the whole time. You grab his hand resting on your hip and interlock your fingers," It's okay i just don't want to think about it. I guess you have spit in my mouth-" "No I haven't! Wait, is that...Is that on the table cau-" "Don't press your luck tonight Eddie you know what I meant," you warn. "Shutting up" Eddie makes a motion of zipping his mouth shut.

You start to laugh and pretty soon Eddie is too. If you had had any nerves left, they would be gone now. You sigh, relaxing into the bed. The weight of Eddie's arm laid across you, holding you in place, had you feeling secure.

"Night Eddie. Don't let the bed bugs bite," you grin as you close your eyes. They snap back open a minute later as you feel the sting of Eddie's teeth lightly clamp onto your shoulder," Hey!" "No bed bugs here, just me. Your loooovveee bug." Eddie grins as you swat at him," Go to sleep!"

Eddie goes to roll over but you grasp his forearm, pulling his arm back over you. He smiles as he nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. He slides one leg and slots it between yours. Your limbs entangled in a more innocent way then normal. You smile softly as you lay there, trying to go to sleep.

You can hear Eddie's breathing even out as he falls asleep behind you. Knowing he feels safe and comfortable enough to do so makes you feel warm inside. You grin as you start to feel the edges of sleep start to overtake you.

Your eyes flutter open as the sun shines through the window. You look over at Eddie and try to stifle a laugh. His face pressed into the pillow with his hair a wild, tangled mess around him. The pillow slightly discolored from where he has drooled onto it. You can't hold it in when you realize the tank top he's wearing has shifted to reveal his entire pec to you.

Eddie slowly wakes up to your laughter, glaring at you slightly for being woken up. The grumpy look fades from his face as he realizes it's you that woke him up. Eddie sits up quickly, brushing a hand through his hair and only getting it caught once or twice. He wipes at the drool on his chin and gives you a big grin," What are you laughing at?"

You nod at his chest and he looks down. Eddie gasps dramatically," My virtue!" He fixed his top as he chuckles. You're sad to see his chest get covered. "Good morning," you say, hand reaching out to lightly graze his.

Eddie grabs your hand with his, thumb stroking the back of your hand," Good morning my dying fish" You wrinkle your brow at him," your what?" "My dying fish, you flopped around so much like a-" You cut Eddie off by hitting him with your pillow. His mouth drops open before he grabs his and hits you back.

Giggles and the sound of pillows hitting each other fill the air before Eddie tosses the pillow aside and tackles you to the bed. He kisses you before hovering over you slightly," Good morning." You grin back, tucking a stray curl behind his ear," Good morning.

Eddie grins down at you and you smile back. The warmth in his eyes causes your stomach to flutter and heart to beat faster. You don't know what he is thinking but can see the love written plainly on his face. You know that while this was only the first time he slept over, it definitely wouldn't be the last.

Eddie kisses the tip of your nose before jumping up," I'm gonna brush my teeth." He starts to giggle slightly making your eyes widen. "Eddie you better not use my brush!" You holler after him, hearing him cackle as he rushes down the hall," Edward!"

[morganbritton132]

Eddie’s on live one day when Steve yells for him to come here. Eddie finds him in the living room and asks what’s up. Steve points to the TV and says, “That’s you.”

He’s watching Gremlins.

<- Last Post | Next Post ->

[sp0o0kylights]

I saw a video today that said, “It’s very uncomfortable as an adult when your friend starts to date somebody who sucks, and you’re all looking at each other going ‘Guys, if this is the person who makes them happy…I think collectively as a unit we can agree that we would rather see them sad. So what's the plan?’” 

And immediately went: modern Steddie AU were Steve dates his high school friend Tommy and everyone is tearing their hair out over how awful he’s being treated. 

Ft. the Party, led by Dustin, hounding Eddie “I could get a man in a SECOND, I just CHOOSE not to date” Munson for help

However:

Eddie is mostly thinking the entire thing is a joke (King Steve and Tommy Hagan? Gay? Together?? Nice try Henderson.) until he runs into Robin. She laments that yeah, they’re bi, but more importantly, Tommy is fucking awful and Steve refuses to see it. 

2. Eddie, maybe, kind of, still has a crush on Steve ("Stop laughing Gareth, everyone has--had! Had a crush on him!") and the guy was never THAT bad in high school---but Tommy Hagan definitely was and a little revenge would be fun.

and finally;

3. Instead of going with the kids' well intentioned but very misguided “Let’s get Eddie to Steal Steve” plan, Eddie meets up with the Robin/Nancy/Jonathan/Argyle/Chrissy dream team to figure out how to prove to Steve that Tommy is horrible. 

Bonus: Robin and Nancy come up with a full proof multi step plan that involves Eddie pissing off Tommy in ways that look completely innocent. The hope is that Steve will see how controlling and unreasonable Tommy is, and break it off.

This hurts no one and just highlights to Steve Tommy's behavior.

Of course, Eddie goes off the rails immediately upon meeting Steve.

Instead of following The Plan, he, with the kids permission and help, gets Tommy to get blow up about THEM.

This is far more successful.

Bonus x2: A large amount of shenanigan's with the kids vs Tommy are involved. As is a scene were Steve breaks down and admits he knows Tommy is terrible, but Tommy puts up with him and Steve "knows how he is."

Eddie goes home, prints out a picture of Tommy and throws cheap ren fair daggers at it for at least three solid hours while he tries to think up ways to prove to Steve Harrington that his parents are wrong, hes very lovable actually.

In fact Eddie would very much like a shot at trying it out, thanks!

(It is also, inevitably, successful.)

[findafight]

Scoops Troop playing dnd together is very dear to me but very funny in a canon fix it setting with steddie because all I can think about is this

[shares-a-vest]

@flufftober Spring Edition Day 6: Sharing a Blanket

wc: 549 | Rated: T for suggestive language and flirtatious banter | cw: None

Tags: Quiet Night In, Getting Interrupted, Future Fic (early-00's), Steddie Dads, Teen Daughter

Note: idk this one might skirt the line of fluff. The start is more silly-fluff and gets a tad angsty.

'Breaking Up with a Grade-A Dork'

“Gimmie,” Eddie commands, all but lunging at Steve to pluck his glasses from his nose.

“Wha-Eddie!” he splutters, kicking up the blanket they are sharing with enough force, it sends a skittish Meatloaf bolting for his safe haven under the couch.

“Your glasses are always so dirty,” Eddie grumbles, vigorously rubbing the spectacles with the bottom of his shirt and ignoring the chaos he has caused.

Steve would shoot something back, but Eddie’s cleaning routine exposes some skin. Flesh that is still easily seen (and ogled) at their close proximity. A little paunch of a belly and a thin trail of hair that goes down, way down and disappears under a teasingly thin pair of sweatpants –

“– Like what ya see, sweetheart?” Eddie chimes.

His voice is a little too loud for a quiet and cozy evening on the couch where American Idol plays forgotten on the television in front of them.

Steve looks up, startled as Eddie now begins some silly rolling motion of his stomach muscles and meets him with greedy eyes and a wiggling brow.

“Maybe,” Steve shrugs, pouting as he snatches up the admittedly, clean glasses.

He puts them back on and runs a hand through his hair, flashing a smirk.

“Steven…” Eddie pretends to warn as Steve leans in and puckers his lips, “We… um…”

But he trails off just as Steve bats his lashes.

“This is going to go on for hours,” Steve bargains, nodding to the television without breaking Eddie’s gaze as he lowers his voice to a whisper, “Ryan Secrest can’t wrap up the results show to save his life.”

“It’s…” Eddie whispers, his gaze flitting to Steve’s lips, “The commercials.”

He closes the gap between them, pressing a soft kiss to his partner’s lips, figuring they’ll start slow –

At least Steve intends on initiating their typical – alone – primetime TV makeout session. But the front door bursts open to reveal Joanie, home far too early and looking more than a little displeased for a routine date night.

“I broke up with James,” she huffs, flinging her handbag in the vague direction of the hatstand before she all but charges to the couch.

Eddie gasps, flopping back onto his couch cushion.

“Steve,” he stage-whispers, sounding desperate as he scrambles to untangle the blanket between them, “I’m not prepared for this.”

“I wasn’t even ready for her first boyfriend,” he shoots back, making room for their daughter who, by the looks of her disgruntled frown, appears not all that heartbroken.

Steve adjusts the throw-over blanket to mask his words but Joanie isn’t listening, instead perking up at the sight of television.

“Well, I’m glad,” Eddie mutters out of the corner of his mouth, “Dude was a grade-A dork – here, Munchkin!”

He smoothes out the throw-over, patting it down for good measure as he shuffles closer, squishing them all tight together on their generous couch.

Steve meets his daughter’s eyes, the big brown orbs growing glassier by the second as her initial nonchalance begins to fade away.

“Tell us what happened,” he says, placing his arm around her.

Grade-A dork on not, James was a perfectly acceptable boyfriend – a nice boy wholly deserving of their daughter’s affection.

Joanie snuggles in under the throw-over, squeezing him back and sniffles.

[aphrogeneias]

idk if you've seen the vid of the guy who gets his girlfriend's bite mark tattooed on him but it's 100% eddie coded. like I could see rockstar!eddie surprising his assistant with a tattoo of a love mark she left on him 🥴

i have seen it and that's what i thought too 🥹

and he totally would ask you to bite him extra hard the night before, and you're used to it because you know your man is into a little pain, it always got him going, so you thought nothing of it until he got home the next day with your bite mark tattooed on his shoulder

that's after the initials tattoo too. you ask him, isn't it enough to my name on you, you also want... what? my dental arcade? and he's like but how else is everyone going to know you claimed me? with the stupidest pouty look in his face

on the next show he performs, he makes a point by getting in stage shirtless and remaining shirtless throughout the night, just to show off :')