#established steddie

[mimixmunson]

Steve and Eddie are complete and utter losers, especially together. Steve’s a jock and Eddie a DM, they both love games. They love their own games, especially the game they play together.

They lay down beside each other, their dominant hands over each others cocks and they jerk each other off simultaneously . The aim of the game is to get the other person to cum before you do, whoever cums first is the loser and he has to cook dinner that night.

It’s fun and playful at first but it becomes seriously competitive, Steve starves Eddie of sex until the game comes around again and by then Eddie is desperately horny. Eddie whines which only turns Steve on even more, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

It would be hot if it wasn’t as amusing as it was to see Steve watch his boyfriend’s dick spurting cum all over his stomach, Eddie complains, “No! Fuck you, asshole”seconds after orgasm. For a man who’s just had a mind melting orgasm, he’s pouting far too much as Steve smirks down at him. “Don’t forget to set the table, my sore loser” He teases as he playfully pats Eddie’s cheek.

[mimimunson]

nicknames / steddie / headcanon

steve has some really stupid nicknames for eddie.

- the flash (bro is so hyperactive and theatrical all the time)

- echo (he repeats the questions you ask him every single time)

- trouble (“oh here comes trouble” ARE YOU KIDDING)

- eds (he usually uses this in passing or when he’s tired)

- daddy

- pretty boy (he’s right and he should say it with chest.)

- edward (only when he’s being annoying)

[ikarakie]

one of the known, undisputed rules of riding in steve harrington's car: passenger seat gets music privileges.

if you brought your own tape, and won the usually vicious battle for shotgun, there was a 100% chance that the drive would be backed with music of your choice. hell, there was even a small collection growing in steve's glove box of music that wasn’t his, because people left them behind either on accident or on purpose. no one really knew what steve liked to listen to- maybe minus robin- but he always seemed happy with whatever the passenger put in.

until one day, when dustin and lucas and mike climbed into his car. dustin had won passenger seat privileges, after a rather tense game of rock, paper, scissors, and instantly reached for the tape player.

steve smacked his hand down. "paws off, henderson." he scolded, not unkindly. all three kids stared at him like he'd grown a third limb as he pulled out of the wheeler's driveway. electric guitar played at a semi-low volume.

"what the hell?!" dustin squawked. "why can't i change the tape?" steve rolled his eyes, fingers tapping along to the rhythm of the beat on the wheel. none of the kids recognised the song, and it certainly didn't seem the kind of thing steve harrington would willingly listen to.

"is it so surprising i want to listen to my own tape in my car?" steve asks. dustin shouts an affronted, 'YES!' to which steve just shakes his head and continues driving.

the man on the track sings over heavy drums and guitar, talking about how he needed someone to 'show me the things that make true happiness' and 'he must be blind.' then, there's a guitar solo that steve smiles at.

"who are you?" mike asked, suspicious. "what did you do with our steve?"

"oh, shut up, wheeler." steve meets his eye in the rearview mirror. "next one to complain loses tape privileges for their next three turns."

that does shut them up. they make idle conversation over a couple more songs before they pull up to their destination. mostly threatening each other over high scores and making bets. steve waves them off with the usual 'don't be stupid' lecture and pulls out of the arcade parking lot, the bass of whatever the next track had been audible even through his closed doors and windows.

after that, steve retains ownership of his stereo every now and then, always playing some form of heavy metal. it just becomes the norm, though never fails to confound whoever's in the car. (because, seriously? polo shirt wearing steve harrington and heavy metal?)

they only ever hear anyone else listen to it after they join hellfire. eddie invites them to his trailer to create their characters together, and when they walk in one of the songs from that dumb tape is playing from a record in the corner.

"woah! you like this music too?" lucas asks. eddie nods excitedly.

"yeah, man! you a fan?" his smile dims a little when lucas shakes his head, but dustin is quick to jump in.

"our friend steve is always listening to a dumb mixtape with this sorta stuff on it." he explains, missing how eddie's eyes light up and his smile turns a little bashful. "he used to let us play whatever we want, but ever since he got that tape he makes us listen to it sometimes when he drives us around."

"well," eddie sighs, fiddling with one of his chunky silver rings. "seems this steve knows someone with very good taste in music." there's a warm look in his eyes before he claps his hands and diverts their attention to the character sheets he printed out.

later that night, steve gets a call.

"you told me you only listened to that tape once." the voice on the other end drawls. it's low and teasing, but it's undercut with obvious wonder and fondness. steve doesn't even bother pretending to be confused.

"well, it's good." (it makes me think of you) he replies, like it pains him. eddie giggles, and steve eyes the tape in question. sat on his bedside table, 'for my stevie' scrawled across it in eddie's neatest handwriting. shitty little hearts drawn around his name and an even shittier skull at the end. "how'd you know?"

"recognised my mötörhead record." eddie coos, "told me how you revoke their music privileges to listen to it." a pause. "you're so fucking cute."

steve can't help the dorky smile that spreads over his face. the way he twirls the phone cord like a fucking lovesick loser. he cracks a joke about making eddie a mixtape featuring the likes of duran duran and tears for fears, which makes him fake retch. they chat for a little while longer, whispering 'i love you's through the phones like it was their first time saying it.

the tape stays firmly in the bmw's music rotation.

[stevieschrodinger]

Mostly retired Steve and Eddie. Part time Honey farmer Steve Harrington who let his husband Eddie spend months painstakingly designing and painting beautiful signage for his business. Eddie who poured his soul into the label art for 'Harrington Honey'.

Only to have to stand and quietly seethe every time Steve answers the phone, 'Steve's Bees, what can I getcha?'

[italiansteebie]

gareth watching from afar as eddie pushes steve against the side of his van, pinning him there and he's like "oh fuck, eddie's trying to beat up harrington. he's gonna die."

and he's looking around, considering the options, the action plan, until he finally looks back at them, and oh.

oh.

eddie's got his hands tangled in steve's hair and steve is basically humping eddie's thigh. and he can't look away. because there's something comsmically attractive about watching his best friend mouth fuck one of the prettiest boys there is.

until he hears steve whimper, and watches eddie basically manhandle this beefy ass jock into the back of his van. he runs away before he can witness the way it starts shaking.

his face looks something like this:

[leatherluxe]

Steve let’s Lucas borrow the Beemer to take Max on a date. The party plus Robin and Eddie are there when he asks.

“Fine, you can have it. BUT. If ANYBODY has sex in the Beemer, NOBODY gets to be in it ever again!”

All six kids make a combination of groaning/indignant noises but Eddie pipes up the loudest, “That is NOT what you said last week!”

The groans turn into various grossed-out-my-dads-have-sex noises.

[formosusiniquis]

any cosmo girl would have known

“Oh she did it for sure.”

“Steve!”

“Ten bucks, Bobert, don't give me that look last time we agreed double or nothing.”

“No,” Nancy insists. “This isn't Murder, She Wrote or Scooby-Doo or Columbo-”

“You saw who did it in Columbo at the beginning,” Eddie reminds.

“I know it's an awful show.”

Robin and Steve remain in sync enough to each get a hand on his shoulder to keep him from getting on the coffee table to defend the only good cop show in existence.

“I'm only pointing out,” she rewinds the VHS taking it back the two or three minutes they'd talked over before stopping it completely, “that this is a movie, not a drama with a repeated format that Steve can pattern recognition into predicting.”

“You haven't seen it already, right?” Robin asks. “The one rule of Monthly Middle-Aged Movie Night is you have to pick a movie none of us have seen.”

“No, I haven't seen it already. If you'll all remember when I asked you each to go see it with me I got,” he points to each of them in turn. “‘Wouldn't you rather see Tomb Raider?’ from double VHS, prestige cinephile and ‘That's too much pink for me, baby, you know I have that intolerance, maybe Rob or Nance will go?’ from my emo-isn’t-a-phase husband. And ‘I'm a little busy with this new story, Steve,’ from Nancy, the only one of you with a real excuse.”

“Some feminist you are, Birdie.”

“I don't want to hear it from you. I watched two of the blandest men alive pursue Renee Zellweger while the screen writers tried to convince us she was homely because you ‘forgot’ you had band practice.”

“You said you liked it!”

“It grew on me, but sometimes you just want to see a woman in a tank top. And I won't be shamed by the same man who cried during Beauty and the Beast.”

“I went with my sweet baby Lucy Joan, you miserable hag,” Eddie says, “and they turned that hot werewolf into a boring looking man.”

“You weren't into that? Look at who-”

“Why am I getting made fun of? Can we finish the movie?”

“No, I'm not going to let this be another Sixth Sense situation,” Nancy says, holding the remote hostage, she knows no one will try to take it from her.

“Ugh don't even bring that up,” Eddie groans, “Dustin still mentions it in at least one letter a year.”

Nancy nods, prim and proper, “Exactly, so tell us right now why you think she did it, then we'll play it again.”

“Chutney, the daughter,” Steve corrects, “have you even been paying attention? Her hair's permed.”

“And press play,” Eddie shouts.

“No,” Robin smacks his hands as he makes his ballsy play to reach around her for the remote. “Show your work, Dingus, even I didn't follow that one.”

“I don't always like the movies everyone else picks but I at least watch them. Her hair is permed, she said she was in the shower. She would have had to have been washing her hair if she didn't hear the gunshot and she has a perm.”

“You can wash your hair with a perm,” Nancy points out.

“You would know.” Eddie snarks, fingering the ends of his own hair.

“You can't wash a fresh perm, you'll fuck up the ammonium thioglycolate. Then you're out forty bucks and you've got limp hair. She killed her dad and lied about being in the shower.”

“Press play,” Eddie decrees again, leaning in close to Steve's side to purr, “it's pretty sexy when you go all hair care detective.”

His hand starts to slip below the blanket. “This is how we ended up with Lucy in the first place,” Steve reminds him, just under the sounds of the courtroom drama picking back up. It doesn’t stop Eddie’s hand from wandering until the movie’s climax starts getting closer, and Eddie’s attention is captured just like Robin’s and Nancy’s.

“Unbelievable,” Robin says, when Elle cites the perm salt.

“Never again,” Nancy swears, when Chutney screams her confession.

“Lucy’s been asking for a brother or sister,” Eddie flirts, as Elle reveals that any good Cosmo girl could have solved it.

No more movies with mysteries or twist endings for a while, they all agree, Robin can’t afford to keep betting against Steve.

[libraryofgage]

Please write for 42. Maybe it could be something dealing with Steve overhearing something he shouldn't have,maybe something the kids say, or Eddie says to someone. Whatever it is it makes him feel like shit. He talks to Eddie, or Robin (or both!) about how much he's changed over the past few years and how he didn't end up being the person everyone thought he'd be, but after what hes overheard he's crying because even though he did all he could he feels lonelier than ever.

Anon, I love you

Prompt 42 for this prompt list!

“Who’s laughing now?”

“…Clearly not you. You’re crying, dear God.” 

I didn't use these quotes exactly, but I came close. It still fits them, though lmao

---

"I should be right back," Steve says, throwing open the van door before hopping out. The moment it closes, Eddie blasts the heavy metal he usually can't because of Steve's sensitive ears. Steve snorts with amusement and heads towards the diner, the smell of fried food and grilling beef overwhelming him the moment he opens the door.

Steve heads up to the counter, flashing a charming smile at Paula, a woman who's been working at the diner longer than Steve has been alive. "We got your usual almost ready, sugar," she tells him, returning the smile as she grabs a receipt from the turning rack and leads him over to the register.

It's a Friday night, which means the diner is bursting with teenagers hanging out in groups or trying to have a romantic date. Steve doesn't usually see anyone he feels like greeting when he picks up food, but a quick sweep this time reveals a table where Jonathan, Argyle, Nancy, Mike, and Will are sitting. Their table is close to the bar, but none of them seem to have noticed Steve because of their conversation, which is just fine with him.

If he gets dragged into a conversation, he might take too long and make Eddie worry. And if Eddie worries, he'll come bursting into the diner, and there are too many people in here that still blame him for...well, everything, for that to be safe.

"Your total is gonna be $12.93," Paula says, watching as Steve distractedly pulls a twenty from his wallet.

"Keep the change. I'll be waiting over there," he says, nodding to a bar stool somewhat close to where his friends are sitting. He then slides into said stool, leaning on the counter and trying to ignore how sticky it is.

He's close enough now to hear the tail-end of Argyle saying, "--eems like such a nice dude, though."

Mike snorts at him. "You didn't know Steve when he was dating Nancy," he points out.

Oh. They're...talking about him. Steve gets the feeling he should walk away, but he also feels stuck in the stool.

"He wasn't that bad," Nancy says. Silence follows her words, and Steve can imagine the looks she's getting. "Okay, yeah, he was an asshole."

"He smashed my camera," Jonathan says, and Steve wonders if he's imagining a trace of bitterness in his voice.

Here's the thing: Steve apologized for smashing the camera (though, he feels it was still justified) and got Jonathan a new one. A fancy, new one. But it doesn't sound like Jonathan is going to include that detail, too.

"He's a lot better now, though," Will says, and Steve wants to get him a new set of dice for trying to stick up for him.

He then wants to cry and maybe break something when he hears Jonathan and Mike snort and bark out a short laugh.

Steve feels himself grow tense as Nancy and Jonathan regale Argyle with how shitty he was in high school. He keeps waiting for one of the kids to refute or bring up how he's changed, but Mike only adds to it all while Will stays quiet, probably unwilling to get himself laughed at again (not that Steve blames him, honestly).

None of them actually point out how Steve's changed. They laugh at how much of a douchebag he was in high school, and Jonathan tells Argyle to "watch out for King Steve coming through" now that nothing is trying to kill them again.

And Steve feels sick to his stomach. Has...has he not actually changed? Is he really the same King Steve he was in high school? Is he still that asshole who didn't give a shit about others because he was just trying to survive himself, no matter who it hurt? Is this how everyone sees him?

"All right, sugar. Here's your cheeseburgers," Paula says, placing a bag in front of him and jerking him out of his thoughts. "One without tomato but with extra ketchup, and the other with grilled onions."

Steve blinks and smiles at Paula again. "Thanks. Same time next week?"

He waits to see Paula's amused smile and playfully dismissive wave before grabbing the bag and practically running out of the restaurant. He doesn't know if it's good or bad that nobody at the table seems to have noticed his presence or departure.

Steve jerks the door to the van open, not waiting for Eddie to turn the music down before hopping in and slamming it shut. He silently pulls on his seatbelt, holds the food in his lap, and stares at the glove compartment.

"Uh, you okay, Stevie?" Eddie asks, his hand lingering on the volume dial.

"I don't wanna talk about it here," Steve says. Because he's going to talk about it with Eddie, the only other person he trusts to be honest with him is Robin. But this is date night for him and Eddie, and even when he's drowning in self-doubt, Steve doesn't want anyone else to interrupt their date night.

Thankfully, Eddie just nods. "Okay, sweetheart," he says, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.

Steve doesn't say a word the whole drive, too consumed by forcing himself to focus on Eddie's hand on his thigh. There's a warmth that he feels through the fabric, grounding him and keeping his brain from spiraling too far.

When they finally park (a secluded area close enough to the local make-out spot to still see the romantic stars in the sky without getting caught by anyone else) Eddie turns to Steve and softly asks, "Wanna move to the back, sweetheart?"

Steve grips the bag in his lap tighter, takes a deep breath, and looks at Eddie. He feels a little bad for ignoring the question, but he can't help his worries and fears bubbling out now that they've stopped driving. "I've changed, right? Since high school?"

Eddie blinks, caught off guard by the sudden question. But then he nods. "Yeah, Stevie, you've definitely changed."

"Jonathan and Nancy were in the diner with Argyle, Mike, and Will," Steve says, trying and failing to seem more nonchalant by unbuckling himself and moving to the couch that barely fits in the back of the van. Eddie follows, sitting closer than necessary to eat the burger Steve hands to him. "They were...talking about me. High school me. King Steve. And Jonathan told Argyle to be wary of me. Do they really think I'm the same person?"

"Stevie-"

Steve doesn't let Eddie get far. He's too wrapped up in what happened, too consumed by self-doubt and guilt and the wish that he'd said something to them. His chest feels tight, he feels like the world is going to cave in on him, and the only thing keeping him steady is the way Eddie puts down his burger and pulls Steve into his lap. "And the worst part is that they were laughing. Will tried saying that I was better now, and they fucking laughed. Like it was ridiculous. Like I could never change.

"And I just....I wish I'd said something. I could have ruined their night so fucking easily, Eds. I could have turned around and asked if they always talked shit behind the backs of people who saved them. I could have asked if Jonathan didn't like the replacement camera I got him, or if he still used it to sneak photos of Nancy."

"Is that why you broke his camera? Fuck, I don't blame you."

Steve manages a slight smile for Eddie. "Thanks. I...I don't know. For all I've changed, it would have been so easy to just turn around and be who they thought I still was. And then I would've torn them down to the size of ants. And...and...I wish I had but I don't but I do, so I could've ended it with who's laughing now?"

Steve's chest feels a little looser, and that's a fucking relief, but then he feels Eddie's hand cradling his cheek. "Well, it's definitely not you, sweetheart. Your crying."

Oh. Eddie is right. He is crying. Steve hastily wipes at the tears before just giving up and leaning into Eddie's touch. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't apologize. I almost wish you had done it. And that I'd been there to see it."

"No, you don’t."

Eddie grins, pulling Steve closer so they're chest-to-chest, heart-to-heart. "Yeah, I do. I love when you get bitchy, sweetheart. Especially when it means we can be bitchy together."

Steve blinks, and he can't help laughing. The words were simple, but they still managed to erase all the doubt and some of the hurt. He still probably needs a few days before he can actually look at Jonathan or Nancy or Mike again, but he doesn't feel so immediately devastated.

"Somehow, that was the perfect thing to say," he tells Eddie, closing the distance between them to kiss his lips, getting a hint of ketchup on his tongue.

"Perfect enough to earn me some fun?" Eddie asks, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

Steve sighs dramatically, pretends to think about it as he actually laments that their burgers will get cold, and then pushes Eddie down on the couch.

[transmunsons]

Winter rolled around in Hawkins. The Harringtons hadn’t been home in months, which was fine with Steve. They’d probably freak if they saw the state of the house.

Multicolored lights were strung throughout the main rooms. The staircase railing had a garland spiraling down it. A large tree sat in the corner of the living room, shedding onto the carpet. But what they would have truly hated was the throng of people.

The entire Upside Down crew gathered there for Christmas Eve. Tomorrow they would celebrate with their families but tonight they breathed life into the halls of this stuffy house. Steve nudged his way past Robin and Nancy, bent close in conversation. He loved being in a crowd, surrounded by people he cared about.

Steve caught the arm of a certain metalhead and took him to another room. Snow gently fell outside the curtain-framed window and he could still hear the faint chorus of Last Christmas.

“What’s up?” Eddie asked, his eyes reflecting the rainbow of lights. He looked concerned.

“Nothing, I just wanted to give you your gift.” Steve couldn’t wait any longer. It had arrived a month ago and had been eating away at him ever since.

“Oh, I don’t have yours with me,” Eddie replied.

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve retrieved the long, gift-wrapped package he’d stashed behind a couch and held it out to Eddie, kneeling on one knee. “Your Banishedness.”

“Jesus, Steve, what is it?”

“Open it.”

Eddie took the present and set it down, tearing off the wrapping and ripping open the cardboard box.

“No fucking way.”

Eddie lifted a glittering blade from the carnage. The smooth metal gleamed as he reverently turned it about to look. Careful fingers traced the Elvish engravings. “The flame of the west.” Eddie whispered.

He placed the sword back down and tackled Steve to the floor. He was not light; the wind got knocked out of Steve’s chest.

“You’re welcome?” Steve said with a smile. Eddie always had odd reactions.

“You’re amazing,” He seemed to be memorizing every part of Steve’s face.

Steve laughed and pulled him down into a searing kiss.

[mimixmunson]

Imagine Steve finding out Eddie’s birth name is actually Theodore and he insists on calling him Theodore for a week straight as revenge for the many times Eddie has called him Steven.

Theodore turns to ‘Theodorable’ just to make Eddie roll his eyes, but then he just calls him Theo for a while and Eddie is really growing sick of it. To the point where he’s got Steve pinned to the wall growling in his ear about how “pretty boys usually have manners.”

Steve feeling as bratty as ever responds with “Yes Theodore anything for you Theodore.” <3

[hitlikehammers]

take the call

rating: t ♥️ cw: off-screen car accident (but EVERYTHING IS FINE), hurt/comfort, softness ♥️ tags: established relationship, married steddie, hurt/comfort, rockstar Eddie/teacher Steve, Steve's heart of gold is very possibly going to be Eddie's undoing one of these days, well-worn-soul-deep love

for @steddielovemonth day eighteen: Love is terrifying (@starryeyedjanai)

set in the 00s, with Steve and Eddie having two decades of loving under their belts, now ♥️

Eddie isn’t expecting a call, any call, really; he’s in the studio, like, if he gets a call someone takes a message or whatever.

And in fairness, Eddie doesn’t get the call.

He gets a message.

“Eddie?”

He rolls his eyes kinda automatically, kinda thoughtlessly at the cut of the audio track to let the mic system override from outside the booth.

“Okay, so, like, don’t freak out.”

He’s not thoughtless at all about the way he clocks the tension in Jeff’s voice even across the speaker system; it’s entirely automatic how he freezes, how he looks up and locks eyes with his friend through the glass and sucks in a sharp breath for the look on his face: pained.

Maybe, maybe scared.

Eddie’s heart drops somewhere near his knees, but beats there so fucking hard.

“This lady called, and she said she found Lainie’s card inside the case of a phone she picked up,” and okay, okay, that’s…that’s random but maybe it’s about their assistance manger, who just got her contract confirmed and got fancy new business cards for it and has been handing them out to everybody she sees, even gave Eddie extras to pass on to Steve, maybe he can share them at the school as if anyone at even a hoity-toity private 6-through-12 school would have a reason for a card from a record label but she’s excited, and Eddie’s excited for her, and Steve loves the people Eddie works with, and not just because they’re attached to Eddie and he loves the things that come with Eddie as a given—but that’s also true, and always has been, but—

“She, um,” Jeff’s voice is filtering through again, and Eddie clocks that there’s…there’s something more to it, more than his brain’s willing to grasp just yet but his body’s apparently picked up on because he thinks the slightest breeze would knock him over and shatter him into pieces, for the tightness in his body; he’s not focused enough to count the separate beats of his pulse but he can tell it’s quick enough already, still weighed down near his feet, that counting would be kinda hard, would take effort:

“She found the phone at a car crash?”

So: the more-to-it. The thing his body already knew.

Eddie…Eddie doesn’t even need to know what comes next to know he cannot fucking breathe.

“Sounded kinda like, uh, like it could have been Steve’s phone,” Jeff is trying to tell him, and part of Eddie hears it, part of him does but most of him is white noise, is pins-and-needles, is underwater and drowning and not even fucking thinking of fighting the pull because he can’t, he’s heavy at the legs and his lungs are seizing and there’s, he’s—

“Because it, umm, she found the card because the case was broken?” and just last night Eddie’d watched Steve pop off the case and slide the cards behind with a laugh and a promise to take them with him not today—because it’s one of those federal holidays that only schools notice happening, like the post office is still open—but definitely tomorrow, never knew which of the kiddos at the Rich People School might be a budding metalhead underneath their uniforms—

“And she said the case was, um, like bright—“

Green.

Electric lime neon fuckin’ green because after three times of Eddie taking Steve’s phone by accident he’d come home with that endearing eyesore, and a kiss to the bridge of Eddie’s nose and a soft hard to confuse that, babe nuzzled against him and—

“It could maybe have just been a coincide—“ Jeff’s talking but Eddie can’t fucking hear it, not really, not when he’s letting the door slam behind him and ripping off his headphones to drop to the groundnut when he’s gasping hard enough to crack a rib, not when the floor’s gone out from underneath him and his vision’s tunneled and nothing seems real, and everything feels too real, every world ending possibility shuddering through his foggy mind alongside every heartbreakingly perfect memory blossoming up unbidden just to serve as a reminder, an underscoring of what he stands to lose, what maybe he’s already fucking lost—

He meets Jeff’s eyes without the glass between them as he grabs his keys from his jacket on the couch and makes himself take the breath that’ll fuel the voice, that’ll give him words, just one word, he needs, he fucking needs—

“Where?”

_______________________

Eddie shouldn’t have driven himself, he knows that.

Like, on some other plane of existing, he’s sure he knows that.

But on this plane, he rips past his bandmates, all the extra people with them for recording, jams the close-door button before anyone can follow him into the elevator because he happens to know this one’s quicker than the stairs even on a good day, and this—

Eddie’s shaking so goddamn hard he can barely get one foot in front of the other, he really doesn’t think he can manage ten fucking flights of steps.

He burns rubber on the way out of the parking lot, and the nearest hospital to where Steve would have been—on his day off, because holiday, he’d have bene close to home, he mentioned food shopping, he thought he might make stir-fry but he wasn’t sure, they hadn’t made a vegetable haul from the Asian market downtown in a couple weeks and they need to, they need to but Steve wasn’t feeling like going on his own, because he might not say it out loud but they both know he enjoys Eddie’s excitability when new items hit the shelves and he can’t read the language they’re labelled in so he guesses frantically until the man who owns the place takes pity, only laughs a little and explains what this spice is for, or that that crazy looking thing’s a fruit, and they ultimately buy whatever it is because Eddie wants to try it now, because he got invested and—

Eddie should pull off the fucking road; his head’s a mess, he can’t see for the way his eyes are welling, streaming, the way he’s shaking with sobs that don’t exactly burst forth, just leak from his lashes as he trembles horrifically because…

Because they were maybe gonna have stir-fry, tonight. Even without the good vegetables.

They were—

Eddie thinks it’s fucking cruel, kind of unbearably so, that his brain’s dead-set on still processing the mundane little perfections of his life as if every single one of them might be dashed to pieces, might be hanging by a thread, might be entirely fucking gone, and he, he…

He can’t. He just, he fucking can’t.

Because that the thing, isn’t it: the scenarios he’s imagining aren’t hypothetical—they’re all memories, too. Steve bloodied, Steve bruised, Steve’s bones broken and flesh torn. Steve still, too still; Steve’s skin under Eddie’s hands when he can’t find a pulse because Eddie’s shaking, same as now how Eddie is fucking shaking—

Eddie knows all those things. They’re so long ago, now, so distant but his fucking cells will never forget every single moment he saw the man he loves bigger than his own goddamn life hurt like that; be risked like that. Be lost like—

And that’s the difference. That’s what is unravelling him as he speeds through the streets quicker than he should, probably breaking more laws than he could count and definitely more than he gives a shit to notice: it’s the losing.

Because the first times, even the times that came after Steve was his: they didn’t come with the loss of so much time, so much of themselves, so much glorious life that they’d built between them, the struggles and the triumphs, the hard choices and the easy things that weren’t choices at all: everything hand-in-hand, every night spent curled around each other, all of them, all of him, inside that chest since he was twenty fucking year old, and Eddie doesn’t just not know how to be outside of what he shares with Steve.

Eddie doesn’t think his own heart can survive, if if Steve’s isn’t next to him.

Eddie’s damn fucking sure no part of him would want to.

It takes him a minute to steady himself enough to get out of the car, once he finally reaches the ER. Steady his body, but more his fucking soul because the whole of him is shaking, is crying out, is wailing unfettered and breaking because he’s terrified, he is goddamn terrified of what he’s going to find when he walks in but he has to, he has to because whatever awaits him, that’s his husband, that is the love of his whole goddamn life and if the worst is going to come for him he’ll face it like he’s faced everything else: at Steve Harrington’s side.

If the worst comes for one of them, then it came for them both.

So he’s stumbling, shuddering, but resolute in his chest when he flies through the sliding doors, eyes still swimming, unfocused but he makes himself take a deep breath—it takes a few tries, and he doesn’t quite succeed, it’s still a tremorous thing and his lungs are still in revolt, but it’s something, and he’ll take something; he has to to take something—

“Eddie?”

He almost doesn’t register it, the voice from the sick-spiral of his memories, all the love on the table to be forfeit—

He almost doesn’t register that his name’s not coming from inside his head.

“Oh my god, what happened?” There’s a flurry over motion in front of him, and he blinks rapidly to try and pin it down because it looks familiar, it smells familiar, it aches familiar in his chest but:

“What is it, what’s wrong?” and fuck, it feels familiar when a hand reaches for his cheek where it’s still damp, tacky for the tears; when another hand slides itself into Eddie’s and draws him in, a hand that fits like no other hand in this world or any other, ever—

“Are you okay?”

And the hand on his cheek turns him and follows his eyes and it takes that long for him to clear his vision properly, but now he’s just blinking so much because that, that can’t be, even if it feels in every goddamn way like it really is, but it can’t…

It can’t be Steve here, whole and on his feet and looking at Eddie with so much worry, so much heart as he tilts Eddie’s chin a little this way, that way, squints to try and see…something.

Eddie’s breath tears out of him in a wet fucking gasp;

“Am I okay?”

Because Eddie’s really not the one to fucking worry about here, Steve had—

“You’re in a hospital, Eds, that’s not usually where you go when you’re okay,” Steve’s eyes widen as he he slides both hands now to Steve’s head, holding him still and assessing…something, maybe, Jesus: Eddie doesn’t know, but he does know that the touch on him now makes his…makes his heart feel safe and he’d been fucking terrified he’d never feel that again.

“Fuck, what happened, baby, did you hit your,” and fingers are dancing gentle across points on Eddie’s skull, so delicate and careful and he can’t fucking help it—

“Are you real?”

Because he needs to know, he needs to know with words because this feels…this feels right and warm and impossible but also true, so.

He needs to know. “Am I…?” Steve’s lips part and his brow furrows before his jaw clenches in that dependable way he has of squaring up to the monster at hand, no matter the kind.

“Shit,” he breathes out slow but then he nods: resolved; “shit, okay. Okay, let’s find—“

“You are real,” and it turns out Eddie didn’t actually need him to say it. He just needed to see the flash in Steve’s eyes when he was ready to take on the world for the sake of love, the way he positions himself a little different in front of Eddie as he keeps one hand at Eddie’s cheek but then slides to brace more at his neck, purposeful, like he’s splinting a wound or something, and then a hand grabs for Eddie’s own again and: oh.

Oh yes. That is Steve Harrington, living and breathing and solid and real, because no one else protects like this.

No one.

Eddie’s heart stumbles, jackrabbits around a little, almost like a reset: like it knows as the implications sink in to Eddie’s mind that it’s not destined to break anymore.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees too easily, distracted as he tugs the gentlest bit at Eddie’s hand, toward the nurse’s station; “yeah, and we should—“

“And you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Steve shrugs it off, but Eddie…Eddie’s vision is clearing. His pulse is settling. He can hear above the static and his limbs are getting lighter.

“You’re one-hundred-percent okay, not a scratch on you, not a single thing wrong,” he needs to make sure, like, so fucking sure.

“I am fine, Eddie,” Steve turns to look him straight on, exasperated and anxious and vibrant with it, so alive in it; “but you’re—“

Eddie’s hand moves almost without his conscious consent, definitely without a plan to grab at Steve’s arm and pinch his skin because Eddie was vaguely toying with the idea of pinches himself, and maybe with poking Steve a few extra times to make sure he didn’t disappear, but apparently his brain landed on: pinch Steve, avoid confirmation bias if your head wants to lie enough to make him real just you you, because you need him that bad.

Steve startles, and turns those beautiful brilliant bronze eyes on Eddie, stretches wide as he gapes a little at his husband.

Eddie…Eddie is here, in front of his living-breathing-gorgeously-aghast husband.

“Okay, oww,” Steve drops Eddie’s hand and pulls back, leaving Eddie’s head to its own devices as he looks a little shocked, shooting just shy of a glare Eddie’s way: full of questions.

Eddie—now that the biggest one’s solved, and solved so perfect, so gentle and sure and he doesn’t have to bury the soul of him; he doesn’t have to bury his soul—but now?

Eddie also has some fucking questions.

“Where’s your phone?” seems the most relevant to start with.

Steve blinks, frowns a little:

“It got lost in the crash—“

“Crash?” Eddie’s tone pitches up to squeak a little because: Steve’s here and whole in from of him, yes. But fuck, there was still a crash? He was—

“Not mine, my car’s still parked at fucking Jiffy Lube,” Steve adds with a huff; “I saw it happen so I stopped and—“

And Eddie knows his husband. He knows his husband better than he knows himself, and Eddie’s kinda made it a point of pride for how self-aware he’s grown to be these days, in living this life and loving Steve beyond the bounds of living at all. But he knows his Steve, and so he knows damn well what happened.

Car runs into car. Steve sees it and jumps out to help. Because Steve Harrington is a protector. Steve Harrington is a helper. Steve Harrington is the best man Eddie’s ever known.

Soon as he jumped into the fray, he wouldn’t have thought once about a fucking phone.

And Eddie, Eddie just, he needs to—

He grabs Steve’s hands and wraps them around his own waist, lets them go and then pulls Steve tight to his chest and buries his face in Steve’s shoulder as Eddie winds his way around his husband, feels him breathing, feels the tickle of his hair.

“You’re gonna kill me, Stevie,” Eddie whimpers, that going tight now all over again:

“You’ve got the biggest heart of fucking gold the world’s ever seen,” he moans into Steve’s collar; “and you’re going to fucking kill me.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but his hands move up to rub Eddie’s back, rote and learned and he might not wholly get, yet, what Eddie’s putting together, and where Eddie’s head’s been, what his heart’s been through, but the first thing he knows, and does like clockwork, is to love of his partner, to soothe him even if he doesn’t know what for.

“Someone found your phone, and they, umm,” Eddie licks his lips, takes a suffering breath and tries to straighten but he’s not ready, not yet: he slumps right back onto Steve’s shoulder:

“They called the studio.”

“Shit,” Steve hisses, bunches his hands in Eddie’s shirt and draws him tighter to his chest: “shit, they interrupted,” and oh, fuck no, fuck regretting the interruption—

“They told me they found it at a crash site,” Eddie grits out, the hurt of it still raw, like just saying the words no matter where they landed in trust, just recalling those minutes that felt like full nightmarish lifetimes, reopens the tender wounds it’d left in hims; “they found it with the case broken,” and Steve leans back, then, eyes saucers as he meets Eddie’s gaze, breath catches harsh.

“Oh,” Steve whispers, eyes darting back and forth between Eddie’s, taking the whole of him in and then he exhales so heavy:

“Oh, babe,” he murmurs, fucking mournful before he takes his hands and links them behind the base of Eddies’ skull and draws him in to the center of his chest, envelopes him there whole: “come here.”

And Eddie falls into that chest—rising-falling-living—he falls into Steve so fucking fast

“I am totally fine, I promise you,” Steve breathes again Eddie’s ear, close and dear and real: “car’s fine—“

“I don’t fucking care about the car—“ Eddie tenses up, appalled at the implication that he gave one single goddamn thought to the car— “No, like, as proof,” Steve’s quick to correct him, to ease the hackles on him; “I wasn’t in the crash, but it was pretty bad and,” Steve shrugs a little then adds soft: “I keep my first aid certs up to date for a reason, I figure, right?”

Jesus; yes, okay. Steve’s savior complex had largely mellowed to a non-interdimensional-threat level with time but he’s meticulous about keeping every skillset he’d gone out of his way to learn from professionals before they’d gone up against the Upside Down for the last time sharp and at the ready for anything: even now.

Fuck, but this beautiful, brilliant, impossible man.

“I was helping, best I could, until the EMTs got there,” Steve tells him softly, fills in the gaps because he knows Eddie’s mind, all the pictures it paints for itself, and in times like these it’s always the worst possible pictures—he knows Eddie needs the slate wiped clean with the truths, blessedly softer, in this:

“Police wanted me to stick around for a statement but the girl who was driving the first car, she was so panicked and she didn’t want to go alone so, umm,” Steve huffs a little, shifts against Eddie gentle and solid and here: “she said she knew me, she was pretty desperate I think, so I rode here with her,” and of course he did, of course he did because he’s Steve; “now I’m just waiting to make sure she gets out of surgery okay,” he squeezes Eddie then, like a punctuation, and it feels so, so fucking good; “also still have to give the goddamn statement, but fuck knows that’s just hurry-up-and-wait,” he turns, and he kisses Eddie’s hair then and Eddie feels something snap in him, give way and the lingering tension spill from his frame as he gasp a little on a breathy exhale:

“I love you so much,” and he does, god: god, but how much he loves this man.

“I love you too, baby,” Steve mouths against his head and Eddie closes his eyes and nuzzles his a little closer as he puts it into words, because it feels like he needs to, it feels like in Steve’s arms like this, pressed up close to him to feel this undeniable life in him: it feels like the coast is clear enough to risk it, to confess:

“I was so fucking scared,” and the words only break a little, and that’s more than Eddie honestly expected.

“I am so sorry,” Steve bows his chin down to graze lips against Eddie’s hairline, delicate and intimate and shivery, trembly down Eddie’s spin for the best of reasons, now.

“Not your fault,” Eddie’s quite to counter, to make clear, because: “shit, you didn’t do anything, I just…”

Eddie makes himself pull back and meet Steve’s eyes, reaches out to frame his face, dear and desperate:

“I can’t lose you,” he moans a little, begs a little, says it with a bare line of something primal echoing in it, scraped straight from his bones: “I cannot ever lose you.”

“I know,” Steve turns and kisses one of his palms, and those two words hold the promise of five more they’ve said so many times, and held so true between them for so many year, through so fucking much:

It’s the same for me.

And to be loved the same as he loves is a fucking privilege; it’s heady and it’s wonderful and Eddie needs it, needs Steve, more than goddamn air.

“Sit with me?” Steve covers Eddie’s hands with his at his cheeks, and nods a little toward the blessedly-quiet collection of chairs by the windows; “while I wait?”

“Nowhere else I’d go,” Eddie says it like the given that it is, and pulls Steve close to kiss him full, to press his lips to Steve’s and drink his warmth, his breath, to feel it sink int past his heart and pump through his veins:

“Not ever, Stevie,” he speaks against Steve’s lips, all of him in it, every vow inside it:

“Not ever.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[mimimunson]

steve always thought he was the more intelligent one in the relationship until he saw eddie solve dustin’s rubix cube whilst smoking a joint and holding a conversation with the kids.

[acasualcrossfade]

Balcony Kisses

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 26

Rating: T | Cw: mention of underage drug use | Words: 1240

Tags: established relationship, established Steddie, Steddie dads, making out

Prompt: Love is a fire that never goes out. @sidekick-hero

Steve and Eddie share a moment during their daughter’s graduation party.

--

Steve leaned against the railing of the master bedroom balcony, letting out a slow exhale. The balcony rails were wrapped in lights, still up from when Eddie decorated for Christmas, but their glow added a nice touch for their daughter’s graduation party. 

The party still continued in the backyard below and Steve could still hear the sizzling sounds of Hopper’s famous burgers on the grill, the faraway laughter of teenage kids and their friends, and the pulsing beat of some party music Dustin had chosen. 

The balcony was quieter than the party itself, and from here, Steve could hear the droning buzz of cicadas as he took in the blue-purple color of the summer evening sky. 

In the glow of the fairy lights that hung across the backyard, Steve spied their daughter, Sienna, at a table with her friends. Sienna turned her wrist every now and then, showing off her charm bracelet, sure to point out her newest charm, a gift from both him and Eddie. It was tradition to give her a new charm for each milestone: graduating middle school, first theater performance, first band performance, and most recently, her first published work. Her piece on the importance of music as a way to capture time and memories won the state essay contest earlier that year, and it was hard to imagine that she would be off to the University of Chicago next week. She’d been invited to their summer writing program before the semester started. 

It was exciting, but it meant Sienna left in a week instead of in a few months. Anxiety hummed between Steve’s ribs at the thought of Sienna on her own. The air was thick with the bittersweet taste that came with moving on.

Summer was just beginning, and yet, everything was ending.

“Thought I’d find you up here.”

Steve turned at the sound of Eddie’s voice as the man stepped out onto the balcony. Eddie looked as good as always, even with his long hair that he’d fussed over that morning now thrown in a messy bun, and his suit jacket abandoned hours ago for a UChicago sweatshirt. Steve spotted the tell-tale taquito grease stain on his sleeve.

“Thought you said you’d leave the taquitos for the guests,” Steve chuckled, loving the way Eddie’s arms laced to embrace him from behind.  

“Couldn’t resist,” Eddie murmured, kissing Steve’s neck softly. “They’re almost as delicious as you are.”

“And here’s when I’d say something about your cholesterol and–”

Eddie gave him a playful squeeze, cutting Steve’s sentence off with a surprised gasp. 

“I’ve been in the mood to indulge tonight. Guilty as charged. But I did take my medicine this morning,” he assured.

“Guess I’ll let you off with a warning,” Steve replied. He turned to face Eddie, leaning against his husband’s chest as Eddie’s arms wrapped around him. Steve couldn’t help but snuggle in closer.

“So, is the party better from up here?”

Eddie’s voice came at Steve’s ear, as Eddie’s hands rubbed the back of Steve’s neck. Instantly, Steve’s shoulders dropped, and Steve hummed in relief.

“Just needed some air.”

“Mm, and what else, sunshine?”

Steve almost hated the way Eddie could read him like a book. Still, the words stuck in his throat as he spoke. “Sienna. She’s leaving us, Eds. We get her for another week, but then…she’s gone.”

Eddie stroked Steve’s cheek, nodding along. “I know. I can’t believe it, either. Feels like yesterday when she was nervous for her first day of school.”

Steve hugged Eddie close as he continued to watch the party downstairs. His eyes drifted across the yard to Max and Nancy chatting excitedly to Erica, no doubt about their publishing company, who’s third office would open in Brooklyn next week. They already had locations in Chicago and Seattle, and Brooklyn was their biggest move yet.

“Everyone’s moving on. What are we even going to do with her out of the house?”

Eddie nibbled Steve’s ear in reply, earning another hum from Steve. “I can think of a few things, starting with you bent over this—”

It was Steve’s turn to surprise Eddie with a playful squeeze. Eddie’s sentence dissolved into laughter as leaned in and connected their lips, taking Steve in slowly with intention.

Steve’s mind went hazy. Eddie tasted like burgers and beer, and everything home and Steve responded by pulling Eddie’s hips impossibly closer, closing every centimeter of space between them. He felt a smile tug at his lips as Eddie’s hand moved down his neck and back to curl around the curve of his ass to give it a squeeze.

Steve let out a breathy moan; even after twenty-five years together, that move still made Steve’s entire body tingle.

“Of course they’ll be plenty of that,” Steve whispered against Eddie’s lips. “Might have to get a head start tonight. Clearly, we’ve got a lot to cover.” 

Steve moved his hand from Eddie’s hip to Eddie’s ass, glad when Eddie’s moan heated his lips. 

Steve had many plans for what he wanted next, starting with pushing Eddie back into their bedroom, but the moment was cut short with a Hey! shouted from the backyard.

“We can still see you up there, lovebirds,” Robin crowed from the backyard in her best sing-song voice. 

Steve broke apart instantly as he felt his ears heat, but Eddie, as always, took it in stride and flipped her the bird as he laughed and pulled Steve in for another deep kiss.

Eddie’s lips made him dizzy and this time was no different. The world went fuzzy in the best way, and Steve threw his arms around Eddie’s neck to tangle in his hair.

Ripples of chuckles, whoops, and whistles came from the backyard, and when they broke apart again, Steve caught Sienna laughing as she playfully gave them both a thumbs down.

“I think we’re embarrassing our daughter,” Steve chuckled. 

“Well that just means we’re good dads,” Eddie winked. 

The party picked back up as attention shifted back to food and socializing. Steve leaned against the railing, glad to get more time with Eddie.

“You think….we did okay?” Steve asked, turning to glance again at Sienna. She’d moved across the yard to join Nancy, Max, and Robin. “She’ll be okay, right?”

Eddie’s arms wrapped around him again, carrying the same safety and love as always. “She’ll be okay,” Eddie assured, pecking a kiss on Steve’s cheek. “Besides, she’s been doing her own laundry for years, so at least we’ll know she’ll be in clean clothes.”

“I guess that’s a relief.” 

“And she knows to call us about anything, too. And she has,” Eddie reminded. “Remember when she was at that awful 70s party and everyone was trying weed?”

“Oh god, yes.”

Their daughter hadn’t partook, but called them instead to have them pick her up because everyone was freaking out and acting weird. 

Eddie was right; Sienna knew to call them for anything. 

Steve leaned into the familiar love and safety of Eddie’s arms. “I’m gunna miss her so much.” 

“We both are,” Eddie hummed. “But we still have a week. We’ll make the most of it.”

Steve nodded in agreement, melting into Eddie’s touch as the man pressed gentle kisses into his neck. 

Although the taste of everything ending was still tangible in the summer air, Steve felt the beginning curl of desire in his abdomen as Eddie kissed him, knowing that some things never changed. 

[stevieschrodinger]

Steve and Eddie lying in bed, Eddie sleeping and Steve reading.

S *gently nudges Eddie because he's grinding his teeth* Babe

E *still clearly mostly asleep* are you okay?

S *heart melting because Eddie's instinctive response is to check on Steve* babe you're grinding your teeth

E *clearly somehow STILL asleep* yeah. Someone stole my van.

[italiansteebie]

He heard the news, and suddenly everything was moving 1,000 miles an hour. The only thing Steve could think about was Eddie. Was he scared? Did he run? What happened? And suddenly they’re in the boat house, poking around one minute, the next, a jagged piece of glass was pressed to his jugular.

“Steve?”

And then it was over, Eddie dropped the broken bottle and slumped against his chest, heaving sobs making their way out, body wracking as he cried. “Shhh, it’s okay, Eds.” He soothed, pointedly ignoring the confused glances from the rest of the group.

They sunk to the floor together, Steve caressing Eddie’s hair. “It’s okay, babe. Breathe, just breathe with me.” Eddie’s sobs stuttered to an end, “She broke in front of me, Steve, I- I knew you said this shit bad but, damn it, Steve.” His voice came out wrecked and broken. Steve sighed, “That’s exactly why I didn’t want you getting mixed up in this shit with me, Eds. I- I can’t lose you.”

Eddie reared back, “And you think I can lose you, Steve?! I can’t.”

“Ed-”

“No! I can’t. Okay?”

Eddie cradled Steve’s face, tear tracks drying and breath returning normal, Steve reached to wipe away a stray tear, tucking Eddie’s hair behind his ear. They were lost in the moment until Dustin broke the silence, “What the fuck.”

“Language.”

“Watch it, Henderson.”

Dustin eyed them, “Okay. Now I see where you guys get it. Weird. Um. Do you want to explain?” Dustin and Robin watched as they silently communicated, eyes flicking towards each other in confusion. “We-” They started in unison, giggling at each other before Steve continued. “We’re dating.” Dustin blanches and Robin looks like she’s about to pass out.

“You’re gay?”

“Bisexual,” is the unison response, “We- Uh. How’d you meet?” Dustin splutters, watching the blush spread across Steve’s face. Eddie grinned, “Stevie here got himself locked inside the mall last summer, and it was just his luck that I was there graffitiing the side of it and heard him crying. I was his white night.”

Steve scoffed, “I was NOT crying,”

“Pfft. Stevie, you were weepin’ like a baby, sweetheart.”

Dustin gags at the pet names, and Robin is just staring at them, starry eyed.

“So there’s… I’m not,” Steve smiles softly at her, “Yeah, Robs. You aren’t alone,” She gives a soft smile back before the lightbulb goes off. “Wait! That’s why you reacted so well to Tammy!” She’s spinning around, and suddenly there’s a finger in Steve’s face, “You had the NERVE to make fun of Tammy, when you're dating HIM?”

“Hey!”

“Shut up, Eddie. Does that mean- Does he know?”

Steve shrugs, “I didn’t have anywhere to go after the russians. I hadn’t told him yet but… The truth came out when his uncle Wayne was patching me up.” Robin’s gaze on Eddie turned thankful.

They were all caught up in a soft moment when the sirens of a cop car broke the peace, “Oh, fuck, I forgot I’m running from the cops.” Eddie says, a little shell shocked.

“Don’t worry, we can go back to my place,” Steve reassures, and never the serious, Eddie waggles his eyebrows at this, to which Dustin and Robin share simultaneous gags, and Steve pushes at his shoulder.

“What? Oh, yeah. Running from cops, don’t make jokes Edison.” He’s muttering to himself as they move to Steve’s car, ducking down and dodging suspicious eyes. Once in and buckled, Dustin gives a pointed look towards the metal head in the passenger seat.

“Edison?”

And the tense atmosphere lifted ever so slightly.

[imfinereallyy]

“I'm so tired.” Steve finally admits, head falling delicately onto Eddie’s shoulder.

They are on the couch in the beach house they rented for all the kids as a graduation gift. Even though it has been years since the upside down, both Eddie and Steve took every dollar they had in order to give back a little joy to the kids. Eddie knows that no matter how old they all get, he will never be able to take the mama out of Steve Harrington.

So the entire trip, Steve’s been hovering, ensuring everyone is having a good time. Although the party jokes, Eddie knows they all secretly love it. Even Robin, who normally would shy away from the attention, adores it.

It's just...Eddie worries. Steve always wears himself too thin for other people. Eddie has been trying to get him to relax (in more ways than one), but it is hard to change Steve. If Eddie is honest, he doesn't really want to either.

He just doesn't want his sweetheart to hurt himself.

So on this rainy day, Eddie suggests a movie marathon to get Steve to relax. Eddie can almost jump for joy at how quickly it works.

“Relax baby. Just shut your eyes for a bit.”

“What about the kids?” Steve murmurs between low breaths. His eyelids are heavy, and Steve only looks through the slits of his eyes. Even the soft glow from the tv in the dark room hurts his eyes.

“I'll watch over them, don't worry. I got them.” Eddie nuzzles his hair.

Eddie knows if anyone else told Steve such a thing, it would work him up even more. But since it is Eddie who says it, Steve collapses into Eddie’s arms instantly.

“Okay.”

Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. “Don’t worry. I got you.”

Steve makes an incomprehensible noise in response. The hum in his throat vibrates Eddie’s entire being. Eddie can tell what Steve is trying to say.

Thank you. Love you. I got you too.

Eddie rubs a hand down Steve’s side. It says,

Always. For you. Always.