#it was a ficlet once

[casdeans-pie]

Dean and Cas are visiting Jody and the girls one day and Dean has insisted on cooking them all dinner. He hears them all chatting and laughing in the next room while he cooks - he can especially hear Cas's rumbling replies - and it warms something in his chest and makes him smile, even though he's not actively part of the conversation.

Patience comes into the kitchen to fetch another bottle of wine and stares over at Dean long enough that he gives her a curious look. "Y'okay there?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry," she says, "it's just that, I've never seen that mark on your shoulder glow so brightly."

Dean freezes. "The what?"

Patience gestures with the bottle at his left shoulder. "The handprint?" she says, with a little uncertainty after his reaction. "It's glowing brighter than ever."

Dean immediately pulls his arm out of his flannel and yanks up his shirt sleeve, but there's nothing there.

"Oh wow." Patience blinks and squints at a light only she can see. "Must be hard to sleep with that."

Dean feels like he takes a long time to respond before he finally says, "You get used to it."

"Guess you'd have to," Patience says, shaking her head as she leaves the room, "when it's as bright as that."

Dean immediately touches his shoulder, where the scar used to be, but it's just smooth unmarked skin under his palm.

He presses down.

The sound of a glass clinking over onto the table comes from the other room and he hears Jody cheerfully claim that Cas has had too much to drink (which Dean knows isn't true unless they had a significantly lot more wine).

Castiel, Dean prays, I think we need to talk about something in the kitchen.

-----------

(Part 2)

(AO3 link post)

[lucabyte]

siffrin starts the game with oddly empty pockets for a rogue who has a habit of stashing away every little trinket that isn't nailed down

and a hardy pocketwatch is an indispensable tool for oceanic navigation

[brainmuncher]

A mis-text-derstanding

After a long night of patrolling around Amity, Danny damn near collapsed onto his bed. His back ached from a stray ectoblast and his eyes felt heavier than a mountain. Technus had done something to the technology around the town. At random a piece of technology would suddenly go rogue with a virus the ghost implemented. The virus would make the item try to capture anyone in the vicinity using any means necessary. So Danny had been doing regular patrols around town to catch anyone who needed help.

That also means that his sleeping time had been radically reduced. Without even the energy to lift his head, Danny patted around for his phone. Once he finally found the device he hefted himself on his side with a groan. It was a new phone since he was the first casualty in Technus’ plan. Thankfully, Sam had given him another so his parents wouldn’t try to make him one. (Who knows what kind of ‘anti-ghost’ protection they would’ve put on it.)

Tucker had promised that he was working on fixing the virus going around. Hopefully, he had some kind of good news to share. As soon as Danny went to message him he realized he hadn’t downloaded their chat app to the new phone. With a sigh he knew that he would just have to use normal texting but with careful codewords.

Putting in Tucker's number with a yawn, Danny sent the first message.

‘It’s your undead bro. The night out tonight was killer. Any news on the techie progress?’

Danny smashed his face into his bed with a sigh after hitting send. Knowing Tucker he was probably face first in his laptop and won’t notice the message for a bit. He could probably just close his eyes and…

Before he could even consider taking a nap there was a generic jingle from the phone. He should really get to fixing that. Tuck deserves a much better ringtone than some bells.

‘Nothing noteworthy yet. It's harder to crack than normal but nothing I can't handle. Do you need me to take over for tomorrow?’

‘Also why aren't you using our chat?’

Danny squinted at the screen with a slight frown. It had been a while since Sam or Tucker tried to go out in his place. They learned pretty quickly that it made Danny way too anxious to have them out there without him. Something about not being there to protect them if they got over their heads made Danny’s chest ache. 

And of course, Tucker noticed that he wasn’t using the app he made. It was a bit glitchy at times, but what tech wasn’t when it came to Danny? Not only was it secure, but it became an easier way for them to establish a timeline for filing. Jazz had been the one who realized that they didn’t have steady information on not just the rouges but the events of the fights. It became a staple to write out what happened and what went wrong after hearing her lecture about it.

‘Don’t have it on this phone yet. And you know how I feel about you being out there.’

Danny watched the screen for a bit, waiting to see if Tucker would reply immediately again. His mom probably caught him on his computer all day and was forcing him to separate himself from it for a while. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for Ms. Foley to do.

‘Yeah yeah, Mr. Possessive. Do you need me to walk you through how to get it again?’

Snorting at the pun, Danny easily replied. If Tucker was feeling sassy enough to joke about that, then he would push some buttons back. It was a simple banter that they sometimes fell into.

‘You know how I get with technology. I’m more likely to break something. Especially since this phone is so new. Whatever happened to flip phones?’

Danny snickered to himself at the message. Tucker had an ongoing war between new and old technology. While he loved his PDA he also admired some of the top-of-the-line devices. It was like the past and the future mixed in his friend's room. He would gush about the new devices but also gush about the older ones that still had functions that the newer ones lost. But flip phones? That was the only technology he knew that Tucker hated. It was the worst of both worlds for him. He’d been so excited when Danny’s flip phone was bricked by Technus’ virus.

‘I’m going to ignore that you said that.’

‘Also there’s going to be trouble in the park near you tomorrow. I’m already planning on going. Do you want in?’

Scooting up from his lounged position, Danny started to write back his reply.

‘Of course, I’ll be there. Don’t need you to go in alone and join the dead. Unusual for him to leave his plans there though. That’ll be fun to write in the report.’

The image of Jazz reading about that brought a smile to Danny’s face. She always found it interesting when one of the ghosts would change a long-time behavior. The fact that Technus was able to keep this rather on the down low would guarantee her interest. He was always one to blatantly announce his plans to the world to hear. Even though it’s a bit of a pain that he’s learning to keep things to himself it would peak Jazz’s curiosity, which made it bearable.

‘It is weird. And don’t remind me about the report. I still have the one from last week to write and I don’t want to do it.’

That made Danny laugh to himself a little. Last week the lunch lady tried to embrace the Ultra-Recyclo Vegetarian life. In the overflow of food, Tucker had gotten trapped in veggies. He was visibly green from having to eat some to escape. Sam had been excited about it at first before she saw how much food was being wasted. She ended up getting attacked for trying to explain the damage overconsumption and food waste could bring.

‘You looked like you wanted to vomit afterward. Well, at least we are prepared this time. We don’t always get that chance.’

Danny stretched out his stubborn limbs, feeling himself try to sink into the darkness. He’d have to end the conversation sooner rather than later. At this rate, he wouldn’t have a choice on whether he was taking a nap or not. At the familiar sound of bells, he looked back down at the conversation.

‘Unfortunately. Well, I’ll be finished by the time we meet at the park. I know you usually like to sleep after a long night.’

The reply made Danny’s core feel fuzzy with happiness. Tucker always knows him so well. He doesn’t know what he did to get such a fantastic best friend. It was at times like these that Danny knew he was so glad that they were in this together. With two of his best friends at his side, it made being a vigilante so much easier to bear. 

‘Thanks. Remember that not just the dead get to sleep. Don’t push yourself. Goodnight.’

With that, Danny felt comfortable with setting his phone down to get changed into pajamas. It ached on his back to take off his shirt, but Jazz would be disappointed in the morning if he didn’t. She always got that pinched look on her face when he didn’t take care of himself to her standards. Her standards weren’t exactly high up either so it made him feel extra upset when he missed the mark.

Being careful to not lie on his back, Danny got back into his bed. He curled himself into the blankets with a small smile. One last chime of bells rang out in the room, probably from Tucker saying goodnight back. Picking up his phone, he opened up the lock screen and looked at his messages.

Instead of a goodnight, his stomach dropped as he realized a different number messaged him. A very familiar number.

‘Hey dude! I know you had to get a new phone so this is me. Not only did I figure out how it’s spreading, I think I finally found a way to get rid of the virus.’

Practically throwing himself off the bed, Danny got to his feet. Both his back and his mind screamed at him as he looked over the message. He tapped back to the one he’d just been replying to, finding his heart stopping at the string of numbers. One of the area code numbers was a six instead of a nine. He’d been messaging a stranger this entire time.

Looking back at the messages he convinced himself that it was fine. He was vague enough to not be recognized. It wasn’t like this person was from Amity. They won’t recognize the correlation between him and Phantom. Surely the other person wouldn’t take his words at face value. 

Worst comes to worst he can have Tucker take over his phone for a bit and make sure the other person can’t find out who he is. He hadn’t bought the phone or had it under his name in any way, so they could only find out from the conversation alone.

Breathing out a breath of air he kissed his night of sleep goodbye.

‘I’ll be over in a sec Tuck. I think I just made a mistake.’

[werepuppy-steve]

"robin."

"you're drooling."

"robin."

"steve."

steve covers his face with his hands to muffle his groan. "robin," he whimpers, dragging his hands down. "robin, he's so hot."

robin rolls her eyes and fake gags, throwing a balled up receipt at him. "your taste in men is questionable."

"no, robs, you don't understand." he's on the precipice of whining. he throws a hand outward, dramatic. "look at him."

robin rolls her eyes and looks to where she already knows he's pointing. across the store, leaning over the new release table in front of the window, is eddie.

eddie, who has decided to battle the indiana summer heat with the shortest sleeveless crop top she's ever seen and a pair of cut off jeans with his hair in a ponytail.

steve makes another wounded noise when eddie turns around and makes a face, his lips pursed and his cheeks puffed out, absentmindedly scratching his (admittedly) soft belly as he scans the store.

she wrinkles her nose.

"if he isn't going to rent anything, i'm kicking him out for loitering." she's only teasing.

mostly.

quick as a flash, steve is pushing himself into her personal bubble, not that she minds, and poking her cheek with his finger. "don't you dare," he says, like he's scolding a misbehaving puppy. "i'll never speak to you again if you do."

"somehow i think i can live with that." he wouldn't even last a full hour.

steve backs away from her like he's been burned. he takes a breath, smooths out his shirt and vest, collecting himself. "alright. if you want to play that game. kick eddie out and leave me devoid of my favorite part of the day, and see if i pull for you anymore."

robin gasps in mock outrage. "you wouldn't–!"

"ahem."

they both jump and turn. eddie is standing at the counter, three tapes in front of him. his hands are in his back pockets as he rocks back and forth on his heels, a devilish smirk on his face that he directs more toward steve.

"you know i could hear every word, right?"

[izzystizzys]

TW: discussion of something approximating suicidal tendencies but with the usual crack programming of this blog

“Ah, High General Windu”, says Fox, pleasantly. “So we meet again.”

High General Windu raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him, Fox thinks, though it’s getting hard to tell with all the blood rushing to his head. “If I let you go, will you try to throw yourself out of another window?”

Fox makes a vague shrugging motion - or tries to, anyways. It’s hard to tell where any of his limbs are going, hanging upside down in the air as he is. “I am willing to discuss terms.” A bridge will do just fine.

Impossibly, the High General’s eyebrows climb even further up his forehead. “A compromise, then, esteemed Commander.” And so, he righths Fox the head way up in the air, but leaves him floating just above the ground, at which point several painted shells come skidding around the corner followed by billowing robes and screeches.

“WHAT”, says Kote, calmly, “THE BANTHA-KARKED, FORCE-LOVING KRIFF, FOX.”

“You’ll short out your helmet mic”, Fox advises him, sagely. Fondly, he thinks back to decimating his own on only his second time in the newly-christened official Coruscant Guard Scream Closet. He’d just received the comm about the Zillo Beast being transported to 000, and made sure to take his bucket off thereafter to improve the quality of his closet time.

High General Windu’s face does something complicated between sympathy and constipation.

Because the Galaxy doesn’t hate Fox enough already and Cody wasn’t enough on his own, Wolffe elbows his way through their batch to plant himself in front of him, shoulders squared and shaking with repressed rage. “If you try that again, dickhead”, he begins, in a low growl that quite frankly sounds more cringe that intimidating, “I’m going to resurrect you and then kill you again.”

“Ah, Wolffe”, Plo Koon says, in his deep, shivery timbre, “Remember our conversations about effective conflict resolution and communication of needs?”

Wolffe’s eyes narrow at Fox, because all non-Guard are sweet summer children who walk around buckets off on 000 like absolute lunatics. Fox prays they never have to find out why that’s a bad idea. “I feel”, his ori’vod presses out between clenched teeth, “that if you make me watch you throw yourself out of another window, I’m going to jump after you and strangle you on the way down, you little bitch.”

“That’s fair”, says Fox, and watches High General Kenobi bury his face in his hands. Wolffe twitches in place and makes an aborted groaning noise, the hypocrite.

“Excuse me, High Marshall Commander Fox, but I fail to see what’s so dire about this situation that the Jedi High Council and your brothers cannot help you solve”, says Windu, the only sane one left on this Force-forsaken bloated corpse of a planet. Behind the gaggle of Jedi and ori’vode already gathered in front of Fox, the rest of them come veering around the corner in a commotion that’s quite frankly embarrassing. High General Yoda is mounted on Skywalker’s back like he’s a race-Eopie, which is Fox’ only consolation.

He got up this morning at 0300, bleary-eyed and with a pounding headache as always, and all was right in the world. And then Fox got called into the Jedi High Council’s chambers and was ceremoniously informed that in the wake of Chancellor Palpatine’s unfortunate demise (hah), and through the emergency state of the Senate, as well as several invented promotions foisted on Fox to make the delegation of any and all paperwork less shady, he was now next in the chain of command and-

Well, Fox is the acting Chancellor, in short.

Haha, he had said, and been meet with several seconds of silence, until it got both awkward and exceedingly painful. Wait, he’d said. You’re kriffing serious.

Kriffing serious, we are, had said High General Yoda, and thus Fox launched himself out the first best window with a maniacal cackle of, you’ll have to catch me first!

And catch him, High General Windu sure did.

“The will of the Force this is”, Yoda interrupts Fox’ train of thought. He scans him thoughtfully from beneath his wizened brow, and hems to himself. “Shake things up, this will. Determine the fate of the Galaxy, this shall. A feeling, I have, that a good Chancellor you will make. A better one, hmmm.”

“That’d be high praise, if not for the fact that a dead lemming would make for a better Chancellor than the last one”, says Fox, drawing and indignant gasp from Skywalker. He doesn’t bother with either that or the green goblin’s cackle, lost in the deep sense of resignation that settles over his shoulders like a suffocating blanket.

“Alright, then, get me Thorn on the comm. As my first act in office, I’m firing all the Jedi. No offense, but you’re kind of a disaster. Then, someone get me to the Chancellor’s office, I’m calling Dooku to let him know the war’s off. And please get me Judicial, they’ll be up all night working on my datafolders - I’m having the Senate arrested.”

“Who - is - arresting - “, Bly pants, hands on his knees from where he’s just come sprinting around the corner with his Jedi.

Underneath his bucket, Fox smiles a smile that’s all teeth. “The Senate”, he says, sweetly, wondering if he’s just imagined the shiver that’s gone through the room. “I’m suing the Senate, and taking them all into temporary custody for abuse of sentient rights.”

[judasofsuburbia]

something something caretaker! steve gets hired by rockstar! eddie to look after and live with wayne. everything is set up over the phone after eddie was given his resume so eddie's never physically seen the guy but he has enough positive reviews and references that it seems like there is anybody in this world that doesn't like this steve harrington fellow.

wayne munson soon becomes his #1 fan.

wayne keeps telling eddie all about steve in their weekly phone calls. anytime eddie tries to steer the conversation into something actually about wayne's health and wellbeing, wayne manages to involve steve. says that steve's blushing face is real handsome while steve rolls his eyes and laughs to himself across the room.

"you should come home on your next break," wayne says.

"i'm planning to."

"steve really wants to meet you," wayne says with an infliction.

"well, shit, wayne. from how much you gush about him, i'm excited to meet your new boyfriend too," eddie teases.

"oh hush, you. my casanova days are over. you, however, could use someone good."

the next break eddie has, nearly six months after steve starts working for the munsons, he arrives at nearly 11pm. he's quiet as he sneaks into the house he bought wayne years ago and nearly shits himself when he sees steve hanging out on the couch watching TV. he drops his suitcase to the floor, jolting steve out of his trance.

"oh god, i'm so sorry!" steve rushes to say as eddie clutches his chest and tries to steady his breathing.

"steve, i take it?" eddie laughs breathlessly.

"yeah, hi," steve stands from the couch and holds his hand out. "nice to finally meet you."

steve steps into the light as he does this and eddie's taken aback by just how handsome he is. oh fuck, wayne wasn't just messing around. eddie takes his hand, firm and strong, and shakes it.

"sorry to jumpscare you like that," steve smiles and his eyes twinkle in the low hallway light.

"no, i should've prepared myself," eddie says. "someone hasn't been in the house either than wayne or i in....well, ever."

"don't worry, i'll try to keep mostly to myself as you two have quality bonding time," steve replies sheepishly.

eddie shakes his head. "you don't gotta do that. you're more welcome around us than anyone. i owe you so much for looking after him."

steve smiles. "you already sign all my paychecks."

right, yeah. eddie's technically this guy's boss. eddie's never really thought of it that way before. that means any plans eddie's monkey brain had in the last thirty seconds about flirting with the handsome caretaker is out the window. it wouldn't be appropriate. eddie slouches and gives steve a tired smile.

"i'm gonna turn in. see you at breakfast?" eddie asks, hopeful despite his conflicting internal monologue.

"be prepared for oatmeal," steve jokes. "it's the only thing he wants for breakfast nowadays."

eddie scrunches up his face. "you don't have any poptarts or anything fun stashed away somewhere?"

"depends. do you like brown sugar cinnamon?" steve asks.

"love it," eddie whispers.

"then yeah, your breakfast fate can be a little better," steve nudges his elbow and it lights up eddie's skin.

"thank you caretaker steve," eddie salutes and turns heel to his teenage bedroom.

over the next few days, eddie goes out of his mind. he watches steve just do his job, the job he hired him to do, and he's still going crazy over it. how steve prepares for everything, accidents and things eddie couldn't even predict. spoon feeds wayne if his hands are too shaky. jokes and messes around with him like he's family. wayne's eyes keep drifting over to eddie's when steve isn't looking, a smug little smirk on his face.

"it can't happen," eddie seethes when steve leaves the room. "you're what's important here and i need him to stick around."

"and i need you to stop moping about the country, getting your heart broken every other week," wayne retorts. "steve's a good boy. he would treat you right."

"we don't even know if he's gay," eddie grumbles.

wayne gives him an unimpressed look that makes eddie bark out a frustrated laugh. "take a look at his bedroom, kid. you'll have all your questions answered," wayne advises right before steve returns.

"jeopardy time?" steve asks, hands already on wayne's wheelchair handles.

"eddie is gonna beat us both," wayne claims.

"that so?" steve beams. eddie is glaring daggers at wayne.

"he's full of useless facts," wayne jokes while eddie throws up his hands and steve laughs joyfully.

eddie falls for steve more and more as the week goes on. he tries his best to restrain it, tries his best to never be alone with steve. catches himself from checking steve out (especially in his daily running outfit, god) and swallows flirtatious lines that nearly escape his mouth. it's hard to say no when steve invites him to watch a movie or hang out with him while he cooks dinner but he does. eddie has to be coming off like a total dick at this point but it's for the best.

steve is out running an errand so eddie finally decides to snoop only a little bit. opens steve's bedroom door and smiles at all the decorations. sure enough, there is a little bisexual pride flag sticking out of the pen cup on his desk. eddie is admiring framed photos of steve and some kids along with little handwritten camp postcards on his corkboard when steve enters the room.

"anything interesting?" steve jokes from the doorway.

"shit!" eddie yells, clutching his chest again like he did the first night. "fuck, i'm so sorry."

"don't be," steve shrugs easily. "it is your house after all. i snoop your teenage bedroom all the time when wayne asks me to change the sheets."

"still, i shouldn't be invading your privacy," eddie says with an apologetic face.

steve walks carefully over to where eddie is standing. "i don't think there is much privacy between us where wayne is concerned," steve says quietly with a kind smile, leaning up against the desk.

"i'm sorry about him," eddie groans, rubbing his hand over his chin. "he is a little pushy about my love life."

"no, i'm sorry that he's weird about us. i swear i called you handsome once and he has never left it alone since," steve admits with a small blush.

eddie's eyebrows raise. "you think i'm handsome?"

"are you kidding me? you got this whole," steve gestures in a circle, "rockstar bravado going on. hard not to admire the show."

"well, you've got a show i admire too," eddie admits, inching closer.

steve huffs, looking down bashfully. "do i?"

"mhm. smart, genuine guy with a heart of gold. makes wayne's days better. lights up a room. probably rescues cats from trees and saves drowning puppies," eddie smiles.

steve tilts his head from side to side. "i may have rescued a cat before but it was stuck under my little brother Dustin's porch."

"see? heart of gold," eddie repeats.

steve exhales deeply, twisting his mouth. "i wasn't sure if you liked me."

eddie reaches his hand over and touches steve's hand on top of the desk. steve looks up shyly to eddie's sympathetic face. "i didn't want to-- there's a power trip here, you know? like you said, i sign your paychecks. i'm not about to pull out the moves and make you feel like your job is at risk if you aren't into it."

steve nods before slowly rubbing his thumb over eddie's.

"and if i am into it?" steve whispers.

"well i--" eddie stutters.

"can i kiss you?" steve asks quietly. eddie's not sure he's ever been asked in his entire life.

eddie nods. when steve's lips touch his, it's all over. any pretense of keeping his feelings undercover blows up like fireworks underneath his skin. eddie feels as his resolve sparkles and cracks away into the air. he encourages steve to keep kissing him by pulling in his face closer. steve sucks his bottom lip in between his own when his watch beeps.

"wayne's meds," steve whispers.

"old bastard," eddie jokes. "watch a movie with me later?"

steve bites his lip and nods. "i know just the couch."

[bigfootsboytoy]

Part two of this story, where Robin discovers Steve’s type. A lot of people seemed interested in more, so here you go! 

The conversation doesn’t go quite the way Robin is expecting it. She’s fully prepared for Steve to launch into saying how confused he is because he’s feeling weird pants feelings for Eddie, but how does that work because he likes girls? She’s been mentally preparing herself for that exact discussion since she watched Eddie Munson call her best friend ‘Big Boy’ in the middle of committing grand theft auto. So when Steve starts talking, curled up on the gross linoleum tile of Family Video, she’s taken by surprise. She doesn’t even get the chance to answer his question before he’s throwing her prepared speech out the metaphorical window. 

“That’s stupid, you already told me that. Sharon Parker in the 5th grade, holding hands for Red Rover, blah blah blah, I know that. But like…Have you ever acted different around a girl, and then one day, you realize it’s because you like her? Like, you had a crush on a girl without even realizing it? Does that make any sense?” 

It takes Robin a second to reboot, but the second she manages, Steve throws her even further off track. 

“It’s just, Tommy H came by the other day, and he said some stuff that really has me thinking and-” 

Robin can’t stop herself. As soon as she hears a name other than Eddie Munson, she has a hand out covering Steve’s mouth. He gives her a look, surprised and confused. Maybe a little annoyed. She valiantly ignores him because what he just said has her head spinning, and she needs to put a stop to it right now. 

“Steve. My best friend in the whole universe. I’m here for whatever you need and whatever you might be figuring out about yourself. You know I’m going to support you 100% no matter what happens but…Please. PLEASE tell me that you didn’t just discover you have a crush on TOMMY H! He isn’t even your type, Steve! He isn’t even in the ballpark of your type! He’s so far off it’s honestly kind of laughable and-” 

Now it’s Steve who puts a hand over her mouth. 

“Jesus, Robin! First of all, gross. I’m not into Tommy, okay? Never gonna happen, not in a million years. And second, what the hell do you mean ‘my type?’ What the hell would you know about my type?” 

Robin carefully removes his hand from her face and shakes her head. She has absolutely no clue where this conversation is going, but there’s still a chance it can work its way somewhere good. Somewhere Munson-related. And she owes it to Steve to listen to his crisis properly. 

“Nevermind, forget that. What happened with Tommy?” 

“Okay well, he came over, like I said. He was super wasted, and I guess he and Carol broke up? And he started talking about when we were friends, and how he always used to try and get closer to me. He said he almost asked me if I wanted to practice kissing once? And he talked about like, trying to touch me all the time, trying to make me laugh? Basically saying he had a crush on me, which was super weird.” 

Robin nodded, because really, she had no idea what to say to that. 

“And then he kissed me. Which was kind of gross because he tasted like whisky and he was being all sloppy, like he wanted to eat my face. But…” 

“But?” 

“It wasn’t as gross as I would have expected I guess.” 

“I thought you said you didn’t like him!” 

“I don’t! It just, wasn’t a totally horrible kiss okay? Only a little horrible.” 

Robin sighed and let her head tip back against the wall. 

“Okay, I’m not seeing your dilemma yet. Tommy liking you and kissing you is kind of weird sure, but it doesn’t change anything about you.” 

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed, and he let out a puff of air. He looked small in this bathroom, scared in a way that Robin hated. They had faced down monsters, torture, long shifts with Keith. A conversation with his best friend should never have Steve looking that afraid, ever. 

She reached out and took his hand in her, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Hey, it’s okay Steve. Tell me what’s going on in that head.” 

“It’s just…Some of what Tommy said. About how he tried to get closer to me, to touch me and make me laugh and shit? I guess I realized that I’m doing that stuff. With somebody else. And if Tommy did it because he liked me then…” 

“You think it might mean you like this person. This…guy?” 

“Yeah. This guy.” 

There it was, the Eddie Munson of it all. Because Robin only knew of one guy that Steve spent his time with and would be trying to be touchy and close with. She had watched it happen with her own eyes, the way Steve would look for reasons to lean past Eddie, to put a hand on his shoulder, his back, once getting brave and putting a hand on his waist. She’d watched Eddie do the exact same things around Steve, too.

Part of her almost just comes out and tells Steve, that she knows who he’s talking about. Except he still looks unsure. He looks like he wants to throw up a little, and Robin has to fix that. 

“You know it’s okay right? For you to like this guy?” 

“I know. It’s just weird, to realize I might like him that way. Normally I can figure out when I’m into someone.” 

“Well, normally you aren’t friends with the people you’re into first. That makes it confusing.” 

“And I’m normally into people with boobies.” 

“That too.” 

Steve lets out a tiny laugh, and it makes Robin beam. Something about Steve is lighter now, like somethings been lifted off his chest, something that’s been there for a really long time without him knowing. She wants to tell him how much she’s loves him. How much she cares about him and supports him. She wants to tell him about all her research, and fully explain to him her findings when it comes to ‘his type.’ 

She wants to tell him that she knows the guy he likes is Eddie. That she thinks Eddie might like him too. 

The ‘ring for service’ bell ruins her chance at saying any of it. 

She and Steve both clamber off the floor, adjusting their vests before exiting the bathroom to greet whoever keeps ringing the stupid bell over and over again. Robin can’t decide if it’s the best luck in the world, or the worst, when it’s Eddie Munson himself standing at the counter. 

She leans towards best luck when she sees the way Steve’s cheeks go red.

A few people asked to be tagged if I did a part 2, so hopefully I do that right! I’ve got a few more parts planned, so if anybody else wants to be tagged let me know and I’ll do my best!

@kaiscove​ @wolfstarlights​  @awkwardgravity1​ @anonymousbandgirl​  @f1ct1onwh0re

[imfinereallyy]

some of us, and I’m not naming names, need to start being properly tagged on fics.

Angst: Is it me?

No.

Unhappy Ending: Is it me?

……it’s not Angst.

[stevesbipanic]

Jonathan can't help but feel guilty some days when he looks at Steve. He sees the glasses and the hearing aids and how sometimes Eddie or Robin would call to tell them that Steve won't be coming today because of a bad migraine.

He's not guilty about not being in Hawkins in '86. He's not guilty about not being in that Russian base. He's not guilty he wasn't there when Billy tried to attack the kids. He's not guilty because all those times he was elsewhere, helping the others, helping Will.

He's guilty because he was there the first time. He's guilty because before he'd even seen a demogorgan he gave Steve his first concussion. He's guilty because sometimes he wonders if Steve would be ok if he had one less hit to the head.

He's guilty because Steve never brings it up, never comments on '83 or about Nancy or about any of it. He's guilty because Steve invites him into his home, into his parties, into his life. He's guilty because Steve calls them friends. He's guilty because when Steve does bring it up he thanks Jonathan for "knocking some sense into me".

He's guilty because no matter how many times Steve has to put in his glasses, or have someone repeat words, or lays in the dark in pain, he never blames Jonathan.

Steve reminds him to not feel guilty, because there's nothing to feel guilty for.

[sweetcreaturetm]

Okay so I feel like we can all agree that Eddie’s love language is physical touch right? I myself am a “Steve Harrington love language is words of affirmation” truther but whatever.

Anyway Steve knows Eddie loves to touch and be touched. So he makes an effort to show Eddie that he loves him through physical contact. Especially skin on skin which he knows Eddie loves.

When he’s driving he always puts his hand on Eddie’s leg his hand rubbing the rough denim. Steve usually manages to find a hole in his boyfriends jeans the perfect size for his thumb to sneak in and rub at the softness of his thigh. (Eddie’s heart always skips a beat or two when he does this).

When Eddie drives them in the giant van of his Steve always keeps his hand at the nape of Eddie’s neck. Just barely dipping his fingers under the collar of his shirt to softly caress the skin below with his knuckles. (This is one of Eddie’s favorites so he starts offering to drive more often)

When they’re sitting on the couch during movie night with the kids Steve snakes his hand around Eddie’s waist and sneakily slips his hand under the hem of Eddie’s shirt to rub circles on his hip. (Eddie knows he can’t hide the blush on his face he’s glad it’s dark and everyone’s focused on a movie)

But Eddie’s very favorite is on the hot summer nights in the trailer when it’s too hot for full body cuddles Steve has started a new habit where he’ll sneak 3 or 4 fingers into the elastic of Eddie’s boxers. The elastic just holding Steve’s hand there. No rubbing nothing sexual just something to be close to show Eddie that he’s still there.

One particularly hot night Steve’s almost asleep and he feels Eddie reach for his hand and tucks his fingers in the waistband of his boxers. He can’t help but smile into the pillow like a lovesick fool.

[casdeans-pie]

The first time Castiel heard the phrase to 'kiss something better' he thought it sounded like a ridiculous notion.

How could a kiss heal a wound? Kisses held no magic. No power.

But Castiel found the phrase drifting back to him while he looked at Dean, hissing with pain as he wiped blood away from his grazed skin.

(Dean insisted on wearing jeans with useless intentional rips on the knees, so it felt inevitable that he would eventually scuff the skin there.) (Castiel had even told him so.) (Dean had told him to stop being such a nag.)

Strange how Castiel knew that there were no mystical properties to a kiss, and yet now it was all he could think about. He could sink to his knees and place his lips directly over the wound, letting his grace knit the flesh below. Or... he could grab a fistful of Dean's flannel and crush his lips to Castiel's own, walking them backwards until they hit the wall, bodies lined up, grace pouring in through their joined lips to thread down Dean's body to the injury and-

"Hey, Cas? You okay there, buddy?" Dean said, snapping Castiel out of his thoughts. His lips pulled up into a playful grin that actively grew as Castiel huffed and narrowed his eyes. "Y'kinda giving me a look like you might smite me or eat me."

"Your jeans are impractical," Castiel snapped in a deep rumble. He prodded Dean in the forehead with two fingertips - felt his grace seal the injury instantly - and disappeared with a hard flap of wings.

[steddiealltheway]

After the bats, Steve gets a bit self conscious about his scars, and starts going on less and less dates because he doesn’t know how to explain them to girls.

He’s hanging out with the fruity four when he starts complaining about it. Eddie snorts and says, “Imagine how I feel.”

Steve cringes and apologizes because everyone knows he got the worst of it.

Robin starts suddenly laughing maniacally, and they all look at her. Nancy asks what she’s laughing about.

Robin jokes, “Well the solution is right in front of you. Just date each other.”

Nancy joins in laughing with her, but Steve and Eddie eye each other. Steve had never thought a gaze could hold more than words until he sees the way Eddie is staring at him.

In all honesty, Steve wasn’t just missing all the physical stuff that comes with a relationship. Well, he was definitely missing it, but more importantly, he was missing the way it felt to have someone that loved him so unconditionally. In reality, he had only had the illusion of that before, but it had been nice. And it was especially nice to care for someone so deeply that it felt like his life had a whole new purpose - to make them happy.

The more he looks at Eddie, the more the laughter from the girls becomes white noise. He thinks that he could treat him that way. Hold him as if he’s doing it for him and not for himself. Call him to wish him a good morning and good night so he could be the first and last thing on his mind every day. Also, to give himself a reason to wake up and a calming voice that can lull him to sleep.

Maybe it would work. Even if Eddie’s not a girl, he thinks he might be able to overlook that. Especially with the beautiful depths of his brown eyes and the big, soft lips of his and that adorable nose even though it’s not a button nose like Steve usually likes. Honestly, Eddie is beautiful in his own way, and Steve knows he isn’t immune to it especially in large doses.

So, he shouldn’t even begin to consider the thought. Fake dating or sort of dating Eddie is completely off the table.

But Eddie’s staring at him, eyes scanning over him and settling on his lips in a way that makes Steve’s heart thud so hard he thinks everyone in the room might be able to hear it.

Okay, maybe the dating stuff isn’t completely off the table, but there’s no way he’s bringing it up first. He nods at Eddie once and looks away trying to signal an end to whatever discussion / consideration they just had. But he can still feel Eddie’s eyes linger on him the rest of the night.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, three of the four are leaving Steve’s place with Nancy offering Robin a ride and Eddie lingering behind a bit. Steve’s been overly aware of his presence since Robin’s whole dating each other suggestion.

What makes it worse is that Eddie is also aware of what his presence does to Steve and keeps shooting him knowing looks and winks. Until now.

Now, he hovers in Steve’s doorway and watches as Nancy and Robin pile into a car and drive off. Then, he takes a few seconds before turning back to Steve saying, “Tell me I’m not the only one considering Robin’s idea, please.”

Steve thinks about it for a moment before he takes Eddie by the wrist and pulls him back inside, closing the door behind him.

“I’m not saying like… actually dating,” Eddie says, the confidence from earlier all but evaporating into thin air as he fidgets anxiously with his rings. “I mean like… we’re just each other’s rock or something. Hell, if you just let me flirt at you and tell me things are going to be okay, then I’m fine with that. You can look at it as practice while you regain your confidence with the ladies or whatever. Just…” Eddie trails off, and Steve thinks he knows exactly what he means.

He finishes Eddie’s thought out loud, “It’s hard going through everything we did without someone to hold us and tell us it’s okay to feel scared sometimes. I mean… it’s one thing to have friends, best friends even, but… they get girlfriends and while you’re their platonic soulmate, their actual soulmate always comes first a little.” Steve sits back on his couch and runs his hands over his face. He hadn’t meant to project about Robin and her relationship with Nancy because he’s happy for them really. He’s just jealous that he doesn’t have what they have.

And really, he knows that friendships are everything, and Robin is his everything but… he sighs. Sometimes it would be nice to be held and kissed and get lost in someone else so deeply that everything else disappears.

Maybe that’s just Steve though. Always running from relationship to relationship for something he’s never able to find.

The couch shifts next to him, and a hand slowly comes up to Steve’s pulling it away from his face, and intertwining their fingers together. Steve’s heart skips a beat as he turns to stare at his and Eddie’s hands together. Steve talks without really thinking, “I know relationships aren’t everything. Friendships are really what makes a person whole, and you can’t get everything out of a relationship but… I really want to trial run this thing with us. We can call it speed running to more than best friends or something.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “That sounds like friends with benefits.”

Steve rolls the term around a bit in his head and squeezes Eddie’s hand while shrugging. “That works too,” Steve mutters.

Eddie shifts towards him and looks him in the eye. “You’ve gotta clear up what that means, man. Terms and conditions and shit.”

Steve’s eyes flicker down to Eddie’s lips. “I wouldn’t mind kissing you. Going on dates or hanging out or whatever you want to call it. Cuddling - hell, anything touching I’m fine with… with reason,” Steve says although with the way Eddie is staring at this lips and the warmth coursing through his body, he’s not sure he has a limit to the whole touching thing. Shit. He knew he wouldn’t be immune to Eddie.

“I’m good with that. Yeah, just… communication is key here, right?” Eddie asks eyes still dipping down to Steve’s lips and back to his eyes between his words.

“Communication,” Steve echoes, staring at Eddie’s lips before communicating, “I really want to kiss you.”

“Finally,” Eddie says before leaning forward and locking their lips together, his hand squeezing Steve’s but he can hardly register it because of how badly he wants to do nothing but kiss Eddie until he’s forgotten any bad thing to ever happen to him.

Then, Steve feels it. The small (big) part of his heart that’s screaming at him that he needs this to be more than a friends with benefits trial run. He needs Eddie to be his and only his if a simple kiss can ruin him like this.

He pulls away and looks at Eddie, searching his gaze and seeing something there he hadn’t seen before. “Eddie, remember everything I literally just said about the trial run and friends with benefits.”

Eddie nods in response. His hand still in Steve’s squeezes.

“I don’t want that,” Steve says and panics when he sees the broken look cross over Eddie’s face as he pulls his hand away.

“Sorry, man. I shouldn’t have-”

Steve cuts him off. “It’s because I want more than that, and you deserve more than that. Screw this trial run and all that shit. I want to date you. Like… actually date you and give this a shot. If you want to that is.”

Eddie’s tongue quickly swipes over his top lip over and over nervously as he stares at Steve. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious. God, Eddie, I can’t believe I even suggested friends with benefits like a dick,” Steve says with a groan running a hand through his hair.

“I’m the one who accepted it very willingly I might add,” Eddie says with a big smile that fades to a smaller one. “But I’d love more than anything to make this something more.”

Steve’s stomach flips and he feels absolutely giddy with joy. “Quickest trial run ever, right?”

Eddie laughs. “Thank god.”

Steve leans in and kisses him again before pulling back and saying, “Best communication ever, right? Good thinking on your part.”

“The best thinking,” Eddie says then kisses Steve again.

Steve thinks that maybe he’s finally found what he’s always been searching for (but really doesn’t want to give Robin the credit).

[riality-check]

Eddie Munson is a starving man. There is a table full of food within arm's reach. Every time he reaches for it, it moves back.

Eddie sees the girls in their boyfriends' varsity jackets. He sees the boys with their hands in their girlfriends' back pockets. That used to tempt him before he learned to stop wanting.

Wanting that, at least.

There is a beautiful boy in front of him. He has skin covered in constellations and a laugh like a clear bell. His hair is soft and his eyes are soft and his words are soft when he speaks to Eddie.

Eddie does not reach for him. He knows he will just move back.

This is another thing Eddie does not get to have. He does not get to kiss his skin or treasure that laugh. He does not get to touch his hair or be seen with love in those eyes or hear the words he wants to.

If Eddie reaches, he will pull back. Or he will spit fire, spit those words Eddie knows he used to say.

(Does he still say them?)

Eddie has not taught himself to stop wanting this. Yet.

(He does not know if he can.)

Everything is right in front of him. Eddie could have it, if he weren't himself.

[marvel-ous-m]

Eddie Munson's Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (1/5)

Part Two

Eddie Munson is many things, but he is not the kind of guy who will kick someone while they’re down.

Call it a hero complex, call it too many hours spent licking his wounds after particularly harsh words from a bully- whatever name you give it, Eddie is vehemently against hurting someone who's clearly already hurting, no matter how much he may hate that individual.

Which is why, in early November of ‘84, Eddie hatches a plan.

It starts in the library, as most of his brilliant ideas do. He’s spending his lunch hour pouring over a borrowed fantasy novel to try and get ideas for NPC’s for his latest campaign with Hellfire, but he gets distracted by a loud thump and a whispered ‘shit’, followed by a sniff. Eddie turns, book still in hand, and proceeds to drop the book onto the carpeted floor of the library in shock.

Because there is Steve Harrington- face beat to hell, hands shakily holding on to a lunch tray, and a salad spewed in all directions at his feet. The librarian- Ms. Boliene (a bitch to everyone other than her outcasts)- began cussing Steve out, demanding he pick up the salad, and Steve got a glossy look in his eye that told Eddie that he was about two seconds from breaking down in tears.

Which- honestly, that was probably the strangest part of this whole ordeal. Steve was King of Hawkins High (and maybe, Eddie theorized, was was the operative word there). Steve had been on a downward slope of popularity since last year when he and Tommy had their falling out. Billy Hargrove (barf) had been getting more and more popular, and, after last weekend, there was a rumor going around that Steve’s girlfriend, Nancy, broke up with him then immediately hooked up with Jonathan Byers.

(Hey, Eddie’s always one to root for the outcasts, he is one, after all- but kinda a dick move, Wheeler. Also, not great of Byers to agree to something like that, especially if he knew about the situation.)

Eddie focused his attention back on the scene in front of him- Steve was now crouching down to pile the wasted salad onto his lunch tray and was blinking rapidly, trying to stave off tears. His head was also doing this thing where it was dipping forward than instantly picking up, like he was trying to even stay awake. Which… huh.

Eddie was sure at this point- this was the lowest he’d ever seen someone get. Even his dad after his mom passed wasn’t like this- at least that bastard could still go out and break shit and get arrested. Steve looked like the only thing he wanted to do at this point was fall apart. Why was he even at school?

Eddie sighed and stood, crossing the room to where Steve was crouching. He gently batted Steve’s hands away and finished cleaning up his lunch, tossing it (and the plastic tray- because fuck this school, honestly) into the large garbage can sitting by the front door of the library. When he turned around Steve was standing, looking a bit shell-shocked. “I… that was my lunch.”

“The floor salad was your lunch? I could believe that before you dropped it, but after? Dude, that’s a low that you cannot reach. I have an extra sandwich in my bag, c’mon.”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s arm, letting go immediately when he felt the whole-body flinch that Harrington gave. Eddie held his hands up, backing up towards the table where he was sitting previously. “I won’t touch you, but you should probably eat, Harrington. I’m extending the metaphorical olive branch in the form of food, I promise that I’m not gonna bite your head off.”

Steve assessed the situation, eyes darting around the library, before he finally nodded and joined Eddie at his table, sitting across from the spot where all of his materials were strewn about. Eddie grabbed his book from the floor and ripped into his backpack, pulling his lunch out and passing it to Steve. (It wasn’t really an extra sandwich, it was his lunch, but it was fine. Jeff always brought snacks to Hellfire and Eddie wasn’t even that hungry today).

Steve stared at the cling-wrapped sandwich in shock, then carefully set to unwrapping it. Eddie noticed a slight tremor in his hands, but decided against commenting on it. “So, uh… what happened?” Fuck, Eddie, abort, abort, that was literally the last goddamn thing you were supposed to ask.

“Um…” Steve finished unwrapping the sandwich, pulling the bread slices apart. “Bologna?”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it. I know it probably goes against your rich folk sensibilities, but I promise it’s worth a try.”

“Yeah.” Steve took a bite of the sandwich, then washed it down with the bottle of water Eddie slid his way. “S’not my first time having bologna and it won’t be my last. Not bad, though.” Steve set the sandwich down, licking his lips. “Thank you, by the way. Eddie, right? You played at battle of the bands last year?”

Eddie blinked in surprise. The change in conversation topic made him totally forget his previous question. “Um- yeah, that was me. Me and the boys- Corroded Coffin. Not your thing?”

“No! I liked it, actually. Very ‘stick it to the man’. I can get behind that.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at Steve, to which he received a responding chuckle. “My dad- he’s an asshole.” oh shit, did Steve’s dad do this?

Eddie’s expression must have shifted, because Steve immediately started rambling. “Shit- no, fuck, I know what you’re thinking, he didn’t do this, my parents have been out of town for like, three months. This was Billy- but it’s fine, really! Like, I can see, and I’m not super dizzy, I’m just a little lacking in coordination which- yeah, the lunch tray. You know what? I’m gonna shut up now.” Steve took another bite of the sandwich and another swig of water, and Eddie noted that Steve’s knee began to bounce up and down.

Eddie decided to push everything aside and deal with it later. Apparently this wound was still fresh (both emotionally and physically), and while Eddie could get into a number of things that Steve just spewed out (his parents have been gone for three months? Billy did this? Steve is halfway to falling over but he’s still at school?!) Eddie elected to change the subject.

“So, Steve, do you know anything about D&D?” Steve’s eyes lit up and he launched into a rant about a couple of kids that he hung around. Eddie listened with a small smirk on his face, eyebrow raised.

Steve was… different than expected. Kind, a little awkward, anxious. There’s only one reason that a jock like him has lunch in the library, and it’s because he didn’t have anyone left to sit with in the Cafeteria. He reminded Eddie of an abandoned dog… specifically a golden retriever with Steve’s eyes and his floppy hair.

Curse Eddie’s big heart and savior complex, but he knew what he had to do. Steve was about to become the newest member of Eddie’s little herd of lost sheep, whether he liked it or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I haven’t decided if I’m going to write a part 2- let me know if you’d be interested in one! I’m so glad to be back to writing after a very long semester of school. I should be writing a lot this summer, so drop some prompts in my ask if you want to see something specific!

[loveinhawkins]

That little window of time after the events of ‘84 and before Steve graduates: where Steve loses the little interest he still had in high school drama, because how could it even matter, he thinks, after everything else?

And Eddie does notice the shift—he’s intuitive that way, can read changes in people so long as he’s really paying attention, so long as he’s looking in the right places—but that doesn’t stop his own thoughts from clouding the picture.

It’s not like the difference is all that dramatic. Steve still has the confidence that goes along with being Steve Harrington, the way he holds himself in a crowd. He’s still well-liked, invited to a respectable number of parties in his last semester; when in conversation, he laughs at all the right moments—still effortlessly fucking charming, Eddie privately thinks, resigned.

But what doesn’t escape Eddie’s notice is that there’s a half-heartedness to some of it, as if Steve’s just going through the motions.

It’s like he’s seen something bigger, that’s the closest Eddie can get to describing it—like he’s somehow seen a world beyond Hawkins, even while standing still.

Eddie reasons with more than a little bitterness that maybe it’s because Steve’s graduating. Maybe he could’ve had that feeling too if he didn’t keep…

“Hey, Munson,” Steve says in the cafeteria because he can just do that apparently, while Eddie still can’t shift the high school reflex, the instant bafflement that Steve Harrington is actually talking to him like they’re in any way—

“You’ve got O’Donnell next, right?” Steve asks.

Eddie nods. It’s not like it’s an actual shock that Steve knows some of his timetable; you spend long enough in school, and you end up remembering patterns without even really thinking about it. Still, it’s one thing to vaguely know it, another thing to hear it.

“Yeah, she’s not here, dude. Overheard a phone call in home-room, they can’t get a sub for her.”

So? Eddie thinks. He doesn’t say a word, but Steve scoffs like he’s somehow heard him.

“Just figured you wouldn’t wanna sit in class for no reason, man.”

“Right,” Eddie says. “Because I have so many other things to do.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Christ, lighten up. Sun’s shining and you’ve got the perfect opportunity to ditch class.”

Right now the only opportunity Eddie thinks he has is to be huge dick and snap back at Steve. He can’t bring himself to do it.

“Guess I don’t have your perspective,” is what he says instead.

Steve smiles. Even that seems knowing, but Eddie can’t put his finger on it.

What happened to you, Steve Harrington? Can you teach me, before you go?

Steve drifts back to his seat with a nonchalant shrug.

What Eddie doesn’t know is that Steve’s already thinking ahead to the end of the school day; he’d got a note in home-room from the school secretary, Claudia Henderson inviting him to dinner.

Eddie doesn’t understand it yet, but he can sense traces of the feeling anyway: that the sun is shining, and as far as Steve’s concerned, the monsters are gone. He’s seen so much, but today in spite of it—or maybe because of it—he is simply, unreservedly happy.

[stevebabey]

Eddie loves to complain.

It’s a known fact to Eddie, to Wayne, to every single sorry son-of-a-bitch who winds up being friends with him, that Eddie loves to complain. Half the time he opens his mouth, it’s to let an absurd about of bitching fall out of it. Trailer trash with a trash mouth, is what he calls himself sometimes, always with a wry grin.

Even more so, Eddie loves to complain about how Steve Harrington seems to get everything he wants in life.

He gets the big house at the end of the block, the spot of captain of the basketball team (not that that’s a position Eddie would ever gun for), the stupid title of ‘King Steve’ that let him soar through high school, untouched.

Missing homework? Well, King Steve Harrington just gets a gentle reprimand, a reminder to make homework a priority next time. Whereas, Mr. McKay had nearly popped his eyeball out in stress when chewing Eddie out for his missing homework in the very same week.

Double fucking standards. He’s pretty sure he’s seen Steve get free shakes down at Harper’s Diner which made Eddie scoff— as if the likes of Steve Harrington can’t pay for his own shakes.

So, yeah, to Eddie? Steve Harrington gets everything he wants.

It becomes so much of a habit — bitching and blaming King Steve for every other minuscule inconvenience as well — that even when Eddie has the week from hell and his entire worldview is shifted, quite literally, upside down, he still complains about Steve.

Because, damn it, even at all this, Steve is better than Eddie is.

Ignoring the fact it’s definitely not Steve’s first rodeo, Eddie can’t help but keep the bite in his tone. It feels a bit too humiliating, being kept bed-ridden in Steve’s empty mansion due to wounds that need tending to every day. Hidden from angry mobs because he’s that unlikable in this town.

Worse, is that even though Steve got a bite taken out of him too, he seems just fucking peachy compared to Eddie.

Pathetic Eddie who can’t even change his own bandages yet. Steve’s more gentle than Eddie probably deserves for all his bitching at him.

Because, of course he bitches. Eddie can’t help it; some defence mechanism from within that isn’t sure how to handle the fact Steve is, like actually genuinely, a decent person. It’s worse when Steve waves it off. Shrugs off his pointy comments, might make a comment about being ‘someone’s grouchy and tired’ but is still so fucking nice.

Until the one day he doesn’t shrug off the comment— this time when Eddie makes a complaint, whinging and grumbling about can’t believe I’m stuck with Steve Harrington playing nurse, Steve narrows his eyes. Then he sighs.

“What’s your problem with me, man?” Steve asks, not unkind, just probing. He’s still winding one of the bandages around Eddie’s torso, the latter propped against the bathroom sink.

Fuck, this bathrooms massive. It’s bigger than Eddie’s entire room at the trailer. He hates it for that. He hates that he’s had more gentle touches in this bathroom in the weeks living here, with Steve, than he had in his whole 20 years since— well, since his mama died really. He tries not to think about that much.

Eddie really glad he asked; he thinks he’s had this whole speech prepped since sophomore year and Steve’s stupidly fluffy hair and smarmy grin walked through Hawkins High’s front doors. Charmed his way to top of the school with his stupid perfect life.

But, well, not all of that is true anymore. Eddie knows there’s quite a few holes in his original fantasised idea of what the perfect life of Steve Harrington looks like. Doesn’t matter, Eddie’s still got a bone to pick. He’s stubborn that way.

“What’s my problem? Did you meet yourself in high school?”

Steve winces a bit at that, his eyes ducking away but his hands keep moving, winding the gauze slowly and carefully. He doesn’t say anything, thinking, but Eddie rolls on regardless.

“Dude, you get— you have everything. You have the house, the popularity- shit, half the population of the school had the hots for you.” He doesn’t mention that he was at one point part of that population. Might still be if Steve keeps being so nice to him. Damn, he’s easy.

His tone as he talks tells a completely different story though, all annoyed and dramatic. “I once saw Miss O’Donnell wave off a failed test just cos. Just cos you were you! That’s the same fucking test that failed me the first time round.”

Eddie waves his hand around, on a roll now; he’s had plenty of practice with bitching about the likes of how Steve Harrington has it all.

“I know all this shit is, well, not fuckin’ ideal but even then! It’s like, of course, you’ll roll out of this with some badass scars that the chicks will dig.”

Steve is still listening intently, Eddie can tell because his eyes flick up to meet his every couple of seconds. His hands keep working.

Eddie huffs and winces at the pain that radiates up and down his side. “If you had these scars,” he gestures up and down. His side is undeniably worse than Steve’s own, they both know. “It would just be badass. Survivor shit, yanno? On me, it’s just, like, shitty mutilation.”

The sentence hangs in the air and Eddie feels his embarrassment creep up by how quickly that turned into a pity-fest, which absolutely not the point. The point is that Steve gets it all and Eddie gets nothing — and that’s how it’s always been.

Steve says quiet for a bit thinking as he ties off the end of Eddie’s bandage. He has to pull it tight and Eddie winces again, another flush on pain. Even if it’s not as embarrassing as it had been in the beginning, Steve taking care of these wounds for him, Eddie still hates it.

“So, that’s your problem with me? You think I get everything I want?” Steve asks plainly, pulling his hands back and folding them across his chest. Eddie hates how handsome he looks doing it. Then hates himself for noticing it.

“In a manner of words, yes.”

Steve uncrosses his arms and suddenly leans forward, planting his hands on either side of Eddie’s hips on the bathroom counter. He leans into his space and Eddie has to force himself not to pull back instinctively. Steve’s face is very close to his.

“And... if I want you?” Steve asks, voice dipping quieter in a way that makes Eddie’s stomach tighten. He represses a shudder and only after, do the words dawn on him; there’s no hiding the way he gets a little wide-eyed and fuck, he just looked at Steve’s lips. Wait, what? Eddie’s heart is thudding like a trapped rabbit’s, wild and quick.

Steve’s stare is intense, eyes a little darker than usual. He looks at Eddie and just for a moment, his gaze drops to his lips. Steve licks his own, his knuckles on the counter growing whiter as he grips it tighter and steels his nerve.

“Do I still get everything I want?”