#lexsspringfanworkschallenge steddie

[steddieonmywaywardson]

Haunted

Here’s my first ever Stranger Things fic! It’s for @thefreakandthehair ‘s Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge and was inspired by @strangersteddierthings idea of a haunted Steve. Hope everyone enjoys! 

Steve is haunted. 

It all started back in 1983 with Barb’s death. 

He hasn’t used the pool since that fateful night. He’d glanced out of the window back then, when he’d been upstairs with Nancy, to see Barb sitting out there all alone. He remembers closing the curtains on her and not giving her a second thought.

 If only he had. 

Since his parents are never home these days, the pool has been sitting unused until the water has mostly evaporated. The tiles are cracked and there’s a layer of green scum sitting on the bottom of it. The ugly brown water stains around the sides look like weeping wounds. If his parents had taken the time to go out into the backyard and check on it, they would’ve had it fixed. 

Steve kind of likes the way it looks. Something even uglier happened to Barb there. He sees her at the pool all the time even though he never goes down there. He sees her face from the window. Smiling at her latest report card, shaking her head fondly at him, shyly trying not to stare at that kid from the school band she had a crush on, or teasing Nancy. All of those Barbs are down there and Steve thinks that’s where she’ll be forever. 

There’s no relief for him in the house. It’s haunted by a different type of memory entirely. Everywhere he goes he sees his parents. His father adjusting one of his silk ties in the mirror above the fireplace, his mother’s expensive heels clacking on the polished parquet flooring. He smells his Dad’s cologne in the bathroom, his Mom’s face cream in their bedroom. They’re here, they’re always here and yet they’re never here.

Chicago. New York. Paris. Italy. Japan. He loses track. 

People expect him to hate his parents. To resent how much they’ve been away. But he doesn’t. Not all of the ghosts are bad. No, there are different ghosts that float around the Harrington house. Sometimes a smell or a sound will bring them back. Sometimes unexpectedly. 

Dustin chews on a peppermint when Steve hosts Hellfire. It’s Christmas and Steve’s Dad is dressed in a full Santa outfit although the graying beard hangs loose. He’s giving a hearty ‘ho-ho-ho’ as he hands over a sackfull of toys while his grandmother’s candy cane cookies bake in the oven and his Mom hums her favorite Christmas Carols. 

Eleven’s party poppers to celebrate her birthday.  They’re his party poppers as his Mom arranges paper plates printed with dinosaurs on the massive dining room table. His father wobbles on a ladder as he hangs balloons and streamers. His grandfather picks him up so he can touch the ceiling and pretend he’s flying like Peter Pan. 

Sometimes, Steve haunts himself. When he applies for the job at Family Video or goes to the library to sneak a look at college brochures. He looks up and sees King Steve staring at him in his reflection. Sneering at him. Perfect King Steve in his preppy polo shirts and immaculately ironed chinos. Not a single hair out of place. Underneath those clothes Steve knows his body is perfect too. No scars or blemishes. He doesn’t have to hide in sweaters or layers. 

He looks away when King Steve starts to laugh at him. 

Steve grabs his jacket, suddenly unable to bear being in the house alone any longer. His ghosts try to follow him but he slams the front door on them all. He hurries down the path and out into the street. Shoving his hands deep into the pockets of the thin jacket he strides down the streets. 

For a while, as usual, he feels safe. They can’t get to him here. Not Barb. Not his parents. Not even King Steve who only ever shows up, ironically, in reflections. 

Maybe the ghosts can’t get him. But the demon can. 

Because even in the darkened streets of Hawkins, he’s haunted. And it’s the worst of them all. He would take all of his ghosts combined forever if it could vanish the demon. 

Eddie Munson.

He’s everywhere. His voice. His image. The smell of his body odor as he’s forced to hide from the people who want him dead. He walks beside Steve, but this isn’t the carefree theatrical Eddie who stands on cafeteria tables. 

This Eddie is haunted too.

His Hellfire t-shirt is stained, saturated with the sickly reddish-brown of his spilt blood. Through the tears in his jeans, he can see open wounds. The demon smiles and a cut across his cheek splits open, fresh blood spilling over into his mouth. He grimaces and Steve can smell the acrid stench of vomit. 

Steve runs.

And runs.

 He doesn’t know where he’s going until he almost goes over the edge. He skids in the mud, realizing he’s standing atop the large hill that overlooks the Hawkins Salvage Yard. His heart is pounding wildly in his chest and his limbs feel shaky as he tries to level out his breathing. 

He’s not sure exactly how long he stays there. But it’s long enough that the sun starts to rise. It casts a soothing glow over the piles of discarded cars. The sky lights up with soft pinks and oranges. 

“Huh. I don’t think I knew this part of town existed. It’s beautiful.”

Steve turns around and he’s there. Not King Steve. Not the demon Eddie. The real one. He’s wrapped up in a leather jacket against the early morning breeze. He smiles at Steve and it’s just like the sunrise. It stretches the pink scar across his cheek. 

“Bad night?” Eddie continues as he stands beside Steve and admires the lit up salvage yard below them. 

“Something like that,” Steve answers. He doesn’t talk about the hauntings. Everyone he knows, Eddie included, has their own ghosts to deal with. 

“Yeah, I know about that,” is Eddie’s quiet reply. Steve feels a motion to his left, he looks down and Eddie’s hand is reaching out. He’s wearing all of his favorite silver rings and his black nail polish is chipped. 

Steve takes his hand and the two of them watch the sunrise together. 

[sparkle-fiend]

“Stargazing” ⭐️🌌

(Another one for @thefreakandthehair and the Spicy Six Spring Fanworks Challenge)

[ahhrenata]

a little something I made for @thefreakandthehair’s Spicy Six Spring Fanworks Challenge! Lex, thank you for hosting 💕 my prompt was Clouds :)

[harmonictechnicality]

my heart is my armor for @thefreakandthehair's Spicy Six Spring Challenge (mwah mwah!) | *ao3 link here*

Eddie doesn’t understand Steve’s sudden interest in having a garage sale. Everything that they own is junk disguised as furniture. None of it is worth looking at, let alone buying.

Besides, they don’t even have a garage. They’re still slumming it in this dingy duplex, too broke to afford decent cutlery.

“A garage sale with no garage is just false advertisement, babe.” Eddie flops onto his stomach, hears the boxsprings of their shitty mattress groan underneath him.

“We need to do some spring cleaning anyways.” Steve sinks his nails into Eddie’s hair, scratches at his roots the way Eddie likes it best. It’s all mindless now, physical affection. Five months ago, both of them would’ve been scared shitless to behave this way. Now, it’s easy.

Routine bliss.  

“Might as well make a few extra dollars out of it.” Steve adds.

Eddie scoffs. Flattens his face into the mattress, ignores the questionable dude smell. “What the fuck is spring cleaning anyways?”

“Just a thing. Always has been.”

“Hmph.”

Spring cleaning sounds like a tradition that rich assholes invented as an excuse to throw away the winter jackets they never even wore - never even took the tags off of. Eddie can just imagine a gaggle of housewives, swishing their wine and speaking in some fake transatlantic accent: ‘Oh sweet darling lambchop, it’s not wasteful. It’s simply a bit of spring cleaning.’

“I never agreed to do spring cleaning.” Eddie says.

“You never agree to do cleaning, period.”

“That’s not true. I did the laundry last month.”

Which isn’t a lie. Eddie did three (two) loads of laundry after Steve refused to go anywhere near it. Claims that the final straw was seeing some sort of mutated rodent emerging from their hamper.

“Oh that?” Eddie had fished his brain for a plausible explanation. “That was just a mouse or a rat or a… miniature possum. Something like that.” At the time, he phrased the whole thing like the weirdest multiple choice quiz - the most suitable answer being Something Like That. 

“Whatever.” Steve snorts, likely recalling that same night. He turns off the lamp, lets the dark bleed into the room, swallowing the light. 

They both inch into the middle of the bed, where it’s naturally starting to dip at the center. All of their belongings are used, including this mattress. If money weren’t an issue, they would invest in a new one.

Or not. Eddie kind of likes that it sags in the middle, where they always meet. Like it’s giving in, shaping itself around the weight of their relationship.

The thought makes him smile, a stupidly smitten grin at his stupidly pretty boyfriend.

“What?” Steve pokes a finger at the corner of Eddie’s mouth.

“Nothing.��� He catches Steve’s finger, pretends to gnaw it off his hand till Steve laughs. Best fucking sound, even better in their bed. 

Christ, he’s so in love. Wants a megaphone to scream about how in love he is with Steve Harrington. Wants to call a local radio station and request the sappiest love songs imaginable. Wants to be able to just say it, then never stop saying it.

That feels colossal though. Like the playfulness will fizzle out or the blissful routine will rupture. 

So he just says it in other ways, like tonight. 

“Okay, fine. You win.” Which is a direct translation to those three important words, because Eddie hates losing. One of his top ten least favorite things in this world is losing. 

He folds Steve’s fingers into a fist, kisses over every knuckle. Looks up to see Steve blinking slowly, half-asleep. Looks happy. 

And damn, that makes it all worth it, right? Losing so Steve can win. That makes it tolerable, almost enjoyable, for a soft expression like that.

“I’ll do the non-garage garage sale.”

Steve yawns, nuzzles into his side of the pillow. “I knew you would.”

Eddie complains the entire time they clean. Makes the biggest fuss, stomps from room to room. Their place is small, sure. Yet somehow, they generate enough dust and dirt to fill multiple trash bags. Which means multiple trips to the dumpster.

Fuck Spring for making cleanliness a seasonal personality trait.

It’s late into the afternoon when they finally take a break. Both of them are pretty disgusting, so they sit on the front steps of the duplex.

“Quit scowling, you big baby.” Steve passes a glass of water to Eddie. Takes a long chug from his own glass, throwing his head back to get more down. 

No human being has the right to look this sexy without proper legal representation. But Steve wears dirt and sweat like an accessory. Makes the grime so damn rugged, utterly hot.

Yeah. Eddie finally can relate to all the women that drool over erotica novel covers. Fully gets the appeal.

“So, find anything worth selling?” Steve asks. 

“As a matter of fact, yeah. I did.”

Eddie reaches to his side and grabs a black binder: Steve’s baseball card collection. An extensive one at that. 

He smooths over the plastic cover, fluttering his lashes up at Steve, who seems to be seconds away from hulking out over the suggestion.

“Oh fuck that, man!” Steve yanks the binder from Eddie’s hand. “I’ve had those since I was a kid!”

“Which is exactly why it’s time to retire them. Give them a new home. One that’s not a brothel for cockroaches.”

Really, Eddie gets far too much pleasure out of this. Watching people squirm under the uncomfortable magnifying glass of his sense of humor.

Steve cracks his neck to one side and snarls.

Ha. Perfect. Eddie has dwindled him down to nonverbal replies. Just caveman actions that are equally as sexy as the dirt and sweat.

But Steve throws a curveball, too quick to catch. He slips into the house and returns with one of Eddie’s favorite cups. “And what about these, huh? What about your dorky Star Wars glasses?”

Okay, ouch. This game is not funny anymore. Totally bypassed Humor and went straight to Dire territory.

Han may have shot first, but Steve Harrington is aiming where it hurts. Cutting him deep (deeper than that very unlucky tauntaun…).

“These are collectibles, Steven. Collectibles!” Eddie exaggerates every syllable, first-grade teacher style. “I spent two years tracking down the complete Empire Strikes Back set. Still missing three from Return of the Jedi, but whatever. Progress is progress.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, these are valuable.” 

“Like, worth a lot of money?”

“No. You know what I mean…” Eddie stands. He carefully grabs the glass from Steve and holds it up to the sun. 

All the designs are just as vibrant as the day he found them. Him and Wayne had searched almost a dozen Burger Kings before he found this design - the scene on Endor. Eddie will never forget that day. 

“The memories.” He finally answers. “These are sentimental and shit.”

Steve hums, nodding. “They mean something to you.”

“Precisely.”

“Noted.” He takes the cup back inside. There’s silence for another minute before Steve lurks around the door, saying: 

“Then I guess we’ll have to sell one of your guitars instead.”

Oh shit.

Another direct hit to Eddie’s blackened heart. 

“You little fucker!” He chases Steve all around the kitchen and into their bedroom. Wrestles him down on their saggy bed, instantly dirtying up again.

They end up with a decent amount of items to sell that Saturday morning. Duplicate records and cassettes, a few kitchen gadgets from Steve’s grandma, and some trinkets that Robin kindly donated. A hodgepodge of treasures, that’s what Steve keeps saying.

He’s so proud of their three tables of junk. Hodgepodge treasures, whatever. Just keeps rearranging things and straightening them out. Concentrating so hard that his eyebrows crease together. Adorably focused. Eddie loves when he gets like this. If they weren’t in a conservative small town in broad daylight, he’d kiss Steve’s twisted-up lips, make him relax a little.

“I…” Eddie starts, quickly tripping on his own tongue. Stumbles over that dumb fucking word. Four letters should not hold the power of an entire emotion, goddamnit. 

He scoots out of his lawn chair, stretching upward. “I think I’ll go pester the lemonade stand across the street. Haggle the price down to a penny or something.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. “You get more bizarre every day, Munson.”

“So does the economy, Harrington.”

The lemonade stand is an immediate mistake. A little girl peers up at Eddie, eyes starting to swell with tears. Maybe the clouds are casting a big, scary shadow over him, making him look twice as evil.

Or maybe he severely underestimated how badass his look really is, who fucking knows.

He dives right into his haggling-monologue, when the girl points to his latest Iron Maiden patch on his vest. Asks in the thinnest voice who the ‘skeleton man’ is. 

And look, Eddie doesn’t mess around when it comes to educating this fine nation’s youth. So he answers honestly:

“Eddie the Head. A vessel for soul-sucking metal.”

The answer is probably what makes her run. But it’s definitely the voice that opens up the floodgates.

Anyways, he’s not just gonna let all this freshly-squeezed goodness go to waste. That would be a shame. A travesty, even.

So he helps himself to two full cups of lemonade. Makes a quick escape before the kid’s parents bring pitchforks.

Eddie sneaks up behind Steve, whispers nervously in his ear. “Well… there’s good news and there’s bad news.” 

“What did you do?” Steve doesn’t miss a beat. 

“I got the lemonade for free.” He hops up on the table, waves the proof around with a big, cheesy grin. Still no reaction from Steve, so what the hell? Might as well get all the information out there. 

“Bad news is, I made the pigtailed kid cry.”

“Dude!”

“It’s not my fault!” Eddie is suddenly very defensive. “She asked who this ‘skeleton man’ on my vest is and I couldn’t lie.”

“You lie about shit all the time.”

“Not about history, Steve! Get your head out of your perfectly-shaped ass.”

Steve puts his hand over Eddie’s mouth, gesturing to the nearby shoppers. Not that Eddie is overly concerned about what the elderly couple can hear from this distance. And he assumes that the suspender-wearing dude admiring the Barry Manilo record, would probably agree on his Ass Opinions.

However, Steve is shrinking further into his chair from Eddie’s commentary. Grunting something unintelligible but mostly likely explicit. 

“Here.” Eddie determines that the safest solution is to back down. Ease off until Steve’s complexion returns to normal colors. “You can have the lemonade that isn’t diluted with the tears of a child.”

Steve laughs into the cup and takes a long swig. Chases it with an exaggerated ‘aaah’ like all of those airbrushed models do in the commercials. 

Eddie is just so damn crazy about this guy. Would drink a thousand tear-soaked beverages for Steve if it meant getting to experience every day just like this. With a smile like that.

“How is it?” Steve asks. 

“Tastes like citrus and fear.” Eddie responds proudly with a wink.

There’s a pause before they both erupt into laughter. Steve slapping Eddie’s knee rather than his own. Eddie snorting like a sitcom dweeb. He’s laughing so hard that he almost misses Steve uttering the most incredible sentence:

“God, I love you.”

Says it just like that. Clear as water. Easier than oxygen. Like he has told Eddie that very phrase a thousand times before.

And Eddie… Eddie can’t locate a single word in his brain. His access to language is padlocked after hearing that. Experiencing that. 

All he can do is move. Move away from the table. Move behind the clothing rack full of used jackets. Move his arms outward, pulling Steve along with him.

He kisses Steve before he does something stupid like scream or flail around. If he’s going to open his big mouth, it’s going to be against Steve’s lips. Licking the drops of lemon clean off his mouth. Pushing his linen-soft hair back and holding it between his fingers.

They’re obscured by clothes and scarves, but it’s risky. Too risky to linger into a deeper kiss like Eddie craves to do. So he lets go of this moment and ducks into the house to catch his breath.

The rest of the day goes by at hyper speed, too fast to notice details. Not that anything could possibly top hearing Steve say what he said. It’s tattooed deep into everything Eddie hears, permanently inked in his mind. 

Once they head back inside, Steve flicks through the wad of cash, counting their profit. It’s not much, merely pocket change - but certainly more than either of them expected. Eddie chalks up the surprising amount to Steve's charm and short-shorts. The yummiest eye-candy of the whole damn neighborhood.

“We should save up for a trip.” Steve suggests.

Eddie raises his brows. “A trip?”

“A vacation. You know, get away from this shithole town for a weekend.” The more he talks, the more Steve’s face glows. Fucking shines with daydreams. “A change of scenery might be nice.”

Eddie holds back the urge to remind Steve that he’s the best scenery in the solar system. He already gushes too much, too often. It’s bound to scare Steve off at some point.

So he simply kisses Steve’s shoulder instead, agreeing with a soft hum. 

He starts to fall asleep while listening to Steve name all the places they should travel to. The last one he remembers is Boston.

“Boston would be fucking awesome, right?”

Eddie nods. Drifts off.

Thinks that anywhere with Steve Harrington would be fucking awesome.

Eddie heads up north for a couple of weeks to help Wayne move into his new place. Since Hawkins was previously sliced apart like pizza, Wayne wisely decided to retire early. Used his government hush-money in the most predictable way he could.

“All I need, son, is an empty mind and lake full of fish.” And that’s exactly what he gets. A one-story house near the top of Lake Michigan. Has one hell of a view too.

They head out to the private dock to chat and fish. Except Eddie isn’t too keen on jabbing sharp metal into a water-dweller’s mouth, so he keeps Wayne company on the dock. Lends an ear for all of his stories.

“Shame that Steve couldn’t make it.” Wayne waits to bring him up till they start packing up for the evening.

“Yeah. It is.” Eddie agrees. Misses him already. “Next time though.”

During his last weekend with Wayne, a package arrives on the front porch. It’s addressed to Eddie, which is strange. The only people that know he’s here are his boyfriend, his bandmates, and his boss. More than likely, Steve probably told their crew of demon-destroyers too, but still…

Why would anyone bother to send him a package if he’s driving back home in three days? Doesn’t add up.

He cuts into the cardboard, practically ruins the box. Inside, there’s an absurd amount of tissue paper. It’s stuffed in every corner, overflowing at the top, just a sea of noisy paper.

“Whatcha got there?” Wayne peers over his shoulder.

“Not sure yet.” Eddie sifts through the noise. Digging around more carefully now because he takes notice of the ‘Fragile’ labels on every side of the box.

He pulls out one of the overly-wrapped items, begins removing it from the tissue paper. After twirling through a few layers, he realizes exactly what it is. 

Glass. Colorful designs. Fits in the palm of his hand.

The Star Wars cups. The last three Star Wars cups that had been missing from Eddie’s collection. 

“No fucking way.”

“Watch it.” Wayne warns.

“It’s a warranted response, I promise.” Eddie hands the pristine Darth Vader glass over to Wayne.  “Look!”

Wayne examines it for a while before letting out a long whistle. “Well I’ll be damned. Haven’t you been looking for these since-”

“1983.” Eddie answers. He gently picks up each glass, thumbs over the artwork to feel the tiny ridges of paint. 

They’re in perfect condition too, more than perfect. No chips, no blemishes, no smudgy fingerprints (except for Eddie’s now). He has to place them back into the box because his hands are shaking with excitement. Smooths his palms against his jeans, head shaking in disbelief.

“That romantic asshole.” Eddie grumbles. “Couldn’t just wait to give me these once I get back home.”

Wayne cuts him a vicious side-eye, one that makes Eddie’s spine shiver. He's received this look many times throughout his childhood, even more in his teenage years. It’s Wayne’s signature stare before he calls Eddie out on his bullshit.

Apparently, it still has the same effect on him too. Works like witchcraft.

Wayne looks over the gifts, then back up at Eddie. His edge melts away, turns into something softer. Kinder.

“You know… some things can’t wait, son.”

With that, the tension in Eddie’s spine unravels. His chest inflates, warming up a few extra degrees. His whole body knows exactly what he needs to do - the thing that can’t wait another second.

The phone only rings through one time.

“This is Steve.” That voice. Hits like a homemade remedy.

“Hey, it’s Eddie.” His nails are tapping next to the phone speaker, rapid and impatient. “Listen, I just got your package and-”

“Oh, god.” Steve sounds pained all of a sudden. “Was it too much? Is it gonna be too difficult to transport back home? I know it would’ve just been easier to wait, except-”

“I love you.”

There it is. The words that can’t wait. The phrase that demands power.

“You… what?”

“I love you. Just, so much.” Eddie feels lighter, weight lifting from his lungs each time he says it. “And I couldn’t wait another second to tell you. So, yeah. Really, really in love with you, Steve.”

All Eddie can hear is Steve’s breath. Just as rapid as his nails tapping.

“Wow… um.” Steve clears his throat, but the sound comes out small. Strained.  “Do you mind if I call you right back?”

Not the response Eddie was expecting. “Oh. Uh.”

“Just - hold on a sec.”

And the line clicks dead.

After the third hour of organizing pans in the kitchen, the only room close enough to launch himself at the phone if it were to ring, Eddie accepts defeat. Retreats to the guest bedroom, contemplating what the fuck went wrong.

He groans into the bedspread, claws at his hair till it’s a fucking jungle. Frizzed out beyond repair, just like his nerves.

“That’s enough moping.” Wayne knocks at the door, creaking it open. “We’re going down to the lake.”

There’s no point in arguing with him. The man is the human embodiment of Stubborn - more so than Eddie, which speaks volumes.

Besides, moping in a different location won’t make him any less pathetic.

Wayne is a master in the art of distraction. Doesn’t waste any time before telling Eddie all about the local gossip he overhears downtown. He quickly transitions into asking Eddie questions about his job. Continues this pattern till the sun falls into the horizon. Not allowing Eddie’s mind the chance to jump to conclusions until they get back to the house. To the phone. 

The phone that’s still not ringing.

Wayne nudges Eddie’s arm. “Wanna give him a call?”

Yes. Desperately yes. 

“Maybe. Gonna go change first.”

Eddie opens the door to the guest bedroom, and his lungs slingshot out of his chest.

Steve is there. Sitting on the bed. Looking at him with that knockout smile and slightly tired eyes.

“Hi.” He sits up a little straighter. Gives Eddie the tiniest wave. 

“You’re… you-”

“Caught the first flight out here.” Steve cuts him off. “Had to.”

“How?”

“The vacation cash jar.”

No no no. 

Eddie’s throat feels swollen with that realization. Knows just how fucking much that potential trip to Boston meant to Steve. 

“But-”

“Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not, I’m not.” Eddie spits out. Needs to swallow this barrier of emotion in his throat so he can form an actual sentence, for christ’s sake. “Fuck. You just… have no idea how much I love you.”

Steve perks up even straighter, seems fully awake now. His smile creeps up to one side of his face, outright mischievous. He tilts his head to the side and holds an arm out, reaching for Eddie.

“Get over here and show me then.”

In one fluid motion, Eddie lands on the bed, draped in Steve’s arms. They kiss and cling to each other as if they might float off somewhere. It’s all too good, too delicious. Just can’t get enough of how Steve tastes, needs to savor it after not having him around for ten days. 

Being under the covers, kissing wildly, is becoming dangerous. And if Wayne weren’t in the room directly across from them, Eddie would have Steve in unspeakable positions by now. Steve tugs multiple times at the zipper on Eddie’s jeans. Causes physical damage to Eddie’s horny soul to pull Steve's hand away.

They stay like this instead. Leisure, molasses kisses. Knotted fingers and tangled legs. Closer than skin.

Steve lifts up onto his elbow, swipes Eddie’s bangs off of his forehead to make room for another place to kiss. “Can’t believe it took a few dorky cups to make you realize you were in love with me,” he says, lips still smushed in that spot before backing away.

Eddie flips onto his back with a heavy sigh. No way he can look at Steve’s face while admitting this outloud. “I’ve loved you since the day you fed me a curly fry that you had twisted around your pinky.”

“That was the moment?”

“That was the moment.”

He can hear the smile in Steve’s voice. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Never gonna dodge that ‘freak’ reputation, am I?”

“Not a chance.”

The sky is dusted with stars that night. Not the kind of night sky they ever get to see in Hawkins. Steve marvels at them, mentions that he’s never seen so many at once, not even through a window.

“We could go outside?” Eddie offers. “See even more, if you want.”

“Fuck that.” Steve burrows his nose into Eddie’s neck. “Too comfy.”

Eddie agrees with a laugh. “It’s a good bed, isn’t it?”

“Ours is better.”

It’s not, it’s really not. Their bed is rotting, the oldest relic of their home.

But it bends with them, forms to their bodies perfectly.

And since this bed has yet to learn their language, Eddie takes the lead.

“You’re right.” He curls himself around Steve. Leans in closer and Steve follows. “Ours is definitely better.”

Even miles away from home, they somehow always manage to meet in the middle.

[matchingbatbites]

all for the love of you | 4.7k

My super late contribution for @thefreakandthehair Lex's spring challenge, using the prompt daisies! I caught writer's block pretty bad and wasn't able to finish this on time - honestly, I got to a point where I just couldn't stand looking at it, so I set it aside for its own good. So glad I finally caught the bug to finish it, because I'm really happy with it! <3

Read on Ao3

Eddie isn't one to get jealous. He didn't really grow up with a lot, he learned to care for the things he had, and his mom taught him that being jealous only made you feel like shit in the long run. Sure he's wanted things before, has coveted things that other people had, but jealousy. 

Jealousy is a whole other monster, something he wasn't familiar with until he caught feelings for one Steve Harrington. 

It wasn’t something that happened immediately. Eddie spent a solid four months getting to know Steve after the younger had carried him out of actual, literal hell. The boy had opened up his home to Eddie once they’d been released from the hospital, and they’ve spent countless hours together since.

Watching movies and talking and just helping take care of each other - something they’d almost been forced into when they realized that neither could reach their arms above their heads without pulling at their sides, their matching bat bites tugging and aching, and Steve completely unable to reach the road rash marring his back.

They fell into a routine that settled warm in Eddie’s soul, and every day became something to look forward to. No matter how bad his day was - and there were plenty of bad days - he knew that he had Steve, that at the end of it he could count on crawling into bed with someone who helped chase the nightmares off, who helped ease the pain just a little.

When he eventually moved back in with Wayne - once his name was cleared and his scars finally manageable on his own - it felt like he’d left part of himself behind. Moving out wasn’t something he had to do, but he felt like he’d needed to. He didn’t want to be a bother to Steve any more, didn’t want to take up space any more than he already had.

He didn’t realize something had changed until they had a bit of distance between them, until he was crawling into a cold bed all by himself, until he was forced awake by vivid nightmares. It didn’t take long for Eddie to be struck by the knowledge that the reason he misses Steve so much, the reason why being away from the younger boy is physically painful, is that he-

Eddie grew up hearing people talk about crushes and butterflies, has heard his friends go on about the people they like, but he's never actually felt that himself. He's never had that nervous, fluttering sensation, or the swooping feeling that Jeff described when he met his current girlfriend. 

Over the years he's managed to brush off inquiries about his own love life, spinning it around to the people that he’s fooled around with, because apparently sexual attraction is something he has no problem feeling or understanding. No, that was something he figured out pretty quickly. 

He's had no problem finding people to sleep with, whether it be in Hawkins or in the bigger city an hour or so away. He learned that he doesn't have a preference when it comes to sex, that he just leans towards pretty people who seem like they might be a little bratty in bed, regardless of whether they're a guy or a girl. He likes feeling good and making others feel good and for years that's been enough. 

Until Steve.

He's been attracted to Steve for a while - a couple of years now, if he’s being honest with himself - though it's hard not to be when the guy won the fucking good gene lottery. His eyes, his mouth, those irresistible little moles and freckles scattered across his skin like stars. Eddie’s always thought he was pretty, even back when he had a shit personality, but now- 

Now that he knows what Steve is like when he’s protecting the people he cares about, when he wakes up shaking from a nightmare, when he just gets to be his genuine, goofball self without worry, well.

It took Eddie by surprise the first time he felt that swooping sensation in his gut, exactly the way Jeff had explained it to him. The fact that it was preceded by one of Steve’s blinding, sunshine smiles being directed straight at him helped the final pieces snap into place, and the completed puzzle laid before him could only spell out the realization of holy shit, I like Steve.

The feeling hasn’t dulled a bit in the two months since his epiphany, and he almost regrets that he hadn’t felt it sooner, back when he was living with Steve, back when he might have had a chance. 

Because now Eddie is jealous. He knows he doesn’t stand a chance with Steve now, because unfortunately, the younger boy seems to have his sights set on someone else. 

He doesn’t know exactly when Steve met her, but it’s been about a month since Eddie first heard this new crush mentioned in quiet conversation between Steve and Robin. It became pretty commonplace for Eddie to catch her name coming from one mouth or the other, and now. 

Just hearing the name Daisy makes Eddie's skin crawl with envy, especially because the two always stop talking about her when Eddie gets close. It’s like they don't want him to hear anything about this mystery girl, like they know he holds some sort of grudge against someone he’s never even met before.

It’s a stupid thought, but one he can’t shake, especially because it keeps happening, hushed conversations quickly cutting off the moment he’s within earshot. Eddie is beyond frustrated, but he keeps his mouth shut, knows it isn’t really his place to be upset about something that isn’t any of his business.

The night that shit finally hits the fan, they’re having a movie night with just the three of them, just Robin, Steve, and Eddie himself. 

Everyone else is busy - something not out of the ordinary with their ragtag bunch - and Eddie shows up a little earlier than they had agreed on. He doesn't think they know he's arrived, he can hear voices still flowing from the kitchen as he closes the front door behind him and heads deeper into the house.

" -don’t know why you keep putting it off! Just ask Daisy out already!" 

Eddie freezes just outside the doorway to the kitchen. He shouldn’t be listening, he knows that it will only make the ache in his chest worse, but he can’t bring himself to take those final steps to join them as Steve responds back.

“Come on, Robin, how many times are we gonna talk about this? I'm not- There's no way Daisy likes me like that."

“Well, I think you’re a self-sabotaging idiot, because you’re clearly wrong. Daisy is totally into you!”

A soft sigh. “Just… What if I’m not wrong? It could ruin everything between us, and I don’t want to lose Daisy because of my dumb feelings.”

“Steve…”

Eddie feels his heart sinking at the hopelessness in Steve’s voice, and decides he’s officially done listening to them talk about this. He steps into the room as casually as possible and they both go quiet - fucking again - as he says “Hey guys! What’s up?”  

Robin looks at Steve and makes a face that Eddie can’t decipher, and Steve shakes his head. The look on her face shifts into something determined and Steve goes a little pale as she turns to Eddie and says "Hey, Eddie! Perfect timing! Maybe you can help us figure something out?”

“Rob-”

Eddie shrugs as he goes into the fridge and grabs one of the sodas Steve keeps around for the kids. “Uh, sure, I can try.”

“Okay! So there's this girl Steve likes and he refuses to ask her out because he thinks she isn't interested in him!"

Eddie does his best to be nonchalant as he pops the tab on the can. "Is she?"

Robin and Steve reply at the same time, their "Yes!" and "No!" overlapping and leaving Eddie blinking as he processes their reactions. He makes a decision and turns to Robin, says "How do you know she likes him?"

Robin instantly looks smug and she leans in closer, almost conspiratorially. "She's not super obvious about it, but I've been watching! Any time she comes into the shop, she always leans against the counter and plays with her hair, and she gets this dopey look on her face whenever he isn’t looking at her.”

The swig of soda Eddie takes turns to ash in his mouth, and he swallows roughly as he turns to Steve, forcing himself to say “I dunno, man. Sounds to me like she’s pretty interested in you.”

Robin looks at Steve, a clear I told you so on her features that even Eddie can read. Steve pushes a hand through his hair, a nervous habit that makes Eddie want to take the hand in his own and hold it, to help sooth whatever worry Steve has. 

“I just don’t know. We don’t really like a lot of the same things, and I- I worry that she would get bored with me after a while.”

“Do you and Robin share everything in common? Do you like exactly the same things?”

The younger two blink at each other before Steve gives a hesitant “No, we don't,” and Eddie shrugs. 

“But you're still important to each other. Sometimes what makes you different only makes your relationship stronger. If this girl is worth anything, then you’ll both find a way to make your differences work.”

He points between himself and Steve. "Like us. You don't mind listening to me talk about D&D stuff, and you're the only person besides Wayne who can get me to sit and watch a sports game, because we care about each other's interests."

That little bit of advice feels like a big thing, especially when Steve looks at Eddie like he's shown him how to hang stars in the fucking sky. The wonder shining directly at him is a lot, it makes his heart thud behind his ribs, and he's thankful when it quickly fades into a soft smile.

Steve's response is a gentle “Okay. Okay, yeah, you're right. I’ll ask her out. Thanks, Eddie,” and even though he'd seen it coming, Eddie’s heart breaks. He shrugs it off, says "Yeah, of course, man. Let's uh, let's watch this movie, yeah?"

*

The rest of the night is - not tense, but there’s definitely something in the air that wasn’t there before. Eddie leaves almost as soon as the movie is over, brushing off Steve’s offer to stay the night in favor of heading back home to wrap himself in his blanket and think about exactly what he’s gotten himself into.

He knows that he can’t be around to see how this unfolds, to see Steve being sweet with some girl. He knows that the jealousy, this unfamiliar creature, will eat him alive from the inside out. Especially because he hasn’t seen Steve like this before. 

Usually Steve’s interest in a girl sparks and fades pretty quickly, a bright flash in the pan of his affections. The fact that he’s been hung up on this girl for a whole month - at least a month, he doesn’t actually know if it’s been longer - is actually a big deal.

No, Eddie can’t be around to see Steve’s courtship or whatever the fuck he’s going to try with Daisy. Instead he does something he’s not proud of and makes himself scarce, just running away from his problems again. 

Whenever Steve calls him to make plans, Eddie makes himself unavailable. He’s helping Wayne with something, or he’s hanging out with Gareth or Jeff, and he stops going by Family Video entirely. The only time he sees Steve is when they cross paths at the D&D sessions the kids roped him into running, and even then, Eddie manages to keep the interaction as brief as possible.

It works for a solid two weeks, until one Thursday afternoon, he finds Robin on the other side of his front door.

“I’m having a crisis. Can I come in?”

Eddie blinks and barely gets out a “Yeah, sure,” before she’s pushing past him and moving to sit on the nearby couch. He follows and takes the opposite end, one leg folded underneath him as he sits sideways, and she turns to face him.

“So, what’s your crisis, Birdie?”

“My crisis is that you’re avoiding Steve, and it’s making him upset.”

Oh. He hadn’t- no, okay, he had kind of been expecting this to be about Steve, but he hadn’t expected her to come right out and say it.

“I’m not avoiding him.”

“Oh, so he’s just going around being mopey and saying that you won’t hang out with him for absolutely no reason at all?”

Eddie gives a half-hearted shrug and leans into the back of the couch. “I don't always have to hang out with you guys, you know. I have other friends, other things to worry about. Besides, I thought he would be too busy with Daisy to even realize I was- not around as much.”

Robin’s eyes narrow, and for a brief moment Eddie knows just what it feels like to be a bug pinned to a display, laid out for someone to see to the very core of him. “Well, that’s also why I’m here. He’s tried asking her out but she keeps dodging the question, and things keep popping up that keep her from saying yes. I wanted to ask if you had any advice?”

Eddie punches down the glee that begins to bubble up and tries to be cool as he responds “You’re going to ask the guy who’s never been on a date for dating advice? For Steve Harrington?”

“You’ve been on dates! You’ve mentioned people you’ve been out with!”

“Yeah, to fuck, Robin. There was no actual dating involved.”

Robin flaps her hands a little in dismissal. “Okay, well just- Humor me for a second here. How do you think he should ask her out? Because obviously whatever he’s trying isn’t working.”

Eddie doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want to give Steve’s best friend advice on how he should ask out some girl, when all he wants is to have the younger boy all to himself. He wants to be selfish, to deny her request and send her on her way. 

Unfortunately, Steve's happiness seems to be his priority, even if it means he finds that happiness with someone else.

“Well, has he asked her out or has he asked her to hang out?”

“What’s the difference?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, motherfucking hell. “Okay, so like, I personally wouldn’t know if someone was asking me out unless they said it outright. ‘Hey, I like you and want to take you on a date, will you go out with me?’ If he’s just asking her to hang out then she may not realize he means it as a date, so he needs to be blunt.”

Robin blinks before she hums in understanding. “That makes a lot of sense, actually. If you- If she's never been on a date, then she wouldn't be familiar with the signs of romantic interest as opposed to purely sexual interest. So he should say it outright."

"Exactly."

"That actually does help, surprisingly. Thanks, Eddie."

"Glad my lack of experience could be of service to you, Birdie. Anything else I can help you with on this fine Thursday evening?"

She bites her lip, suddenly nervous, and Eddie almost regrets asking. “Just- do me a favor; when Steve asks you to hang out again, say yes, okay?”

Eddie can’t hold in his grimace as he says “And be forced to listen to him go on about his new girl? Yeah, no thanks.”

Robin goes completely silent and when he looks up at her, she's giving him that pointed stare again. 

"Eddie-" Oh no. "-are you jealous?"

He scoffs and cuts his eyes away from Robin, unable to look at her as he says "There's nothing to be jealous of, Robin."

“Oh, yeah, so you’re totally cool about Steve going out with Daaaisyyyy?”

His face must do something involuntarily, because Robin lets out a squeal and reaches across the short distance to slap him on the leg, a reaction that isn't uncommon for her but something that still takes Eddie by surprise every time.

“Fucking ow!”

“Holy shit, you like Steve! I knew it! I mean, I had my suspicions, but you totally fucking do, don’t you?”

Eddie shakes his head, pushes his hands into his hair and tugs slightly to release some of his quickly building anxiety.

“Nope, no, we’re not going to talk about this.”

“But Eddie-”

“Robin! Steve is literally in the process of trying to ask out some girl! My feelings don’t even factor into this situation, so fucking drop it!” He knows he being mean, but he can’t stop himself from snapping as he stares Robin down, as he watches the expression on her face shift- 

It’s like she’s just realized something terrible, something absolutely horrific, and she immediately backs off with a soft “Sorry…”

Eddie sighs and slumps into the couch, drags his hands down and presses his palms into his eyes until he sees spots. The silence between them is heavy for a moment before he feels Robin moving closer, and he finds himself suddenly wrapped in a hug. He leans into her, lets her hold him for a moment as she asks “What are you doing Saturday?”

“Nothing, as far as I’m aware.”

“Steve is on a closing shift, and I’m off. Maybe I could come over and we could watch something? Something weird that only we would like. As an apology for being pushy.”

The metalhead hums in consideration. “You have to bring the movie and the snacks.”

Robin just laughs and nods. “Yeah, deal.”

*

Eddie feels a little better over the next two days. Having someone else know, even if he didn’t really confirm it, leaves him feeling a bit lighter. He’s not worried about Robin telling Steve, he trusts her not to expose his feelings like that, and he finds himself really looking forward to spending some one-on-one time with the girl.

The knock sounds on the door half an hour earlier than Eddie expected, and he yells out a “Just a second!” as he quickly pulls his hair up into a loose ponytail. He’s freshly showered after doing a little work on his old van, and he’s dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt that he had swiped from Steve’s place - Robin’s sweatshirt, actually, if the ‘HHS Marching Band’ scrawled across the front is any indication.

“You’re early, Birdie! I thought we said-”

His sentence dies off as he opens the door to find Steve fucking Harrington on the other side. 

This is- It’s very much unexpected, and not the social encounter Eddie had been preparing himself for tonight, especially when Steve looks like actual perfection in a polo that hugs his arms and chest just right and brings out the greens in his hazel eyes.

“Steve? What are you doing here?”

Steve takes a breath, and Eddie gets the sense that he’s nervous, but why-

“I know that you’re expecting Robin, and I’m sorry for just springing this on you, but- Will you go out with me? On a date- a romantic date. Robin said you had planned for a movie night so I brought-” 

He lifts a hand and Eddie’s eyes cut down to see a bag clenched in one, and in the other a bouquet of red daisies that make Eddie’s heart stop. 

“I brought The Evil Dead and The Thing, and I uh, I made that pasta you like, literally pulled it off the stove before I came over.”

He’s looking at Eddie expectantly, but there’s so much to process and nothing makes sense, and Eddie can’t- He doesn’t -

“I don’t- I don’t understand what’s happening right now. You- You’re-”

Steve’s expression goes soft and he nods towards the trailer. “Can I come in?”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just steps back so Steve can come inside, and watches as he sets the bag on the counter but keeps his hold on the flowers. Eddie closes the door behind them and asks “I thought you were working tonight?”

“Yeah, uhm. Robin took my shift so I could come over. She told me- And I had to-”

Steve pushes his free hand through his hair and Eddie waits, watches as he builds up the courage to-

“I like you, Eddie, I have for months. I think about you all the time, and I hate that you don’t live with me anymore, and I can’t- I thought I was being obvious about it, but I was wrong, so now I’m being blunt because apparently that’s what it’s going to take.”

Steve offers the bouquet to him, pushes it into the space between them, and Eddie’s eyes snap to the flowers as he gives a weak “But what- what about Daisy? You been talking to Robin about her for weeks, so-”

“Eddie, you’re Daisy."

He- What?

"What do you mean?"

"I couldn’t just talk about my feelings for you in the open. I never knew who would be around, if it would be safe, so I uh, I came up with a code name for you. It was actually Robin’s idea, but that’s probably not surprising. But, yeah. You're Daisy, I like you and I want- I want to be your boyfriend, Eddie. If that's what you want too?"

Eddie’s heart is racing. He almost can’t believe what Steve is saying, he actually-?

“I’ve never liked someone before.”

Steve blinks at Eddie’s admission, and the older continues before he loses the last of his nerve.

“You’re literally the first person I’ve ever liked, and I thought- For a long time I thought I was broken, that there might be something wrong with me, because having sex was never an issue but crushes and romance felt like an alien fucking concept. And then I spent four months getting to know you, the four best months of my entire life, and I realized that holy shit, I think I love Steve, and it’s-”

Eddie takes a breath, trying to steady himself as he takes in Steve’s wide-eyed expression. 

“No one told me how fucking terrifying it is, how big it feels, how mean it can make you. Every time I even heard the name Daisy I wanted to dig my nails into something and tear, because I didn’t want you to think about her, I wanted-”

He doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Steve steps into his space and reaches out, one big hand moving to grab his wrist, something that instantly helps ground him, and the other gently cupping his jaw.

“There is no girl, Eddie. Baby, sunshine. There’s just you, only you.”

And Eddie feels like he’s going to collapse. He jerks forward, arms wrapping around Steve and face pushing into the crook of his neck, and he’s grateful when Steve lets it happen, when he pulls Eddie close and just holds him, letting everything sink in.

His eventual “Yes,” is muffled by the fabric of Steve’s shirt, and the younger hums in question. Eddie pulls back so he can look at Steve properly as he clarifies. “You asked me out on a date, and you said you want to be my boyfriend, if that’s what I want. And yes, fuck yes, that’s what I want, Stevie.”

Steve beams at him, another one of those sunshine smiles that warms Eddie from the inside out. He watches as Steve pulls away and stoops to grab the flowers - he must have dropped them in his haste to comfort Eddie - and offers them a second time. Eddie takes them with a soft smile, can’t help but jibe “You know I don’t have a vase for these, right?” and Steve shrugs.

“We can trim them down, put them in one of the mugs. Vases are overrated anyway.”

Eddie laughs in agreement and sets out to do just that. He feels light as air as he and Steve move around the little kitchen, Eddie tending to the bouquet as Steve dishes out the pasta he brought into a couple of bowls.

It’s so nice. It’s just like when they were living together, the easy harmony that they had coming back to them so naturally, but now with a different undertone. Now, Steve touches his waist as he passes by, he lets Eddie lean into him, lets their fingers brush meaningfully as he hands over Eddie’s food. 

They eat right there at the counter, shoulders brushing as Steve talks about what happened yesterday at work, as Eddie recounts last night's D&D session with the kids. Eddie can’t stop smiling, he feels like fucking giggling, and Steve isn’t much better off, his eyes full of stars as he listens to Eddie talk.

Their first kiss tastes like red sauce and pasta, and Eddie is so unprepared for how it is to kiss someone when there are actual feelings involved. It only reinforces the buzz in the back of his mind, that distinct impression of home that he gets whenever he's around Steve.

They eventually end up on the couch, Eddie mostly in Steve's lap and arms wrapped around each other, and Eddie’s never felt so utterly content. 

They’re most of the way through The Thing when he tips his head up so he can look at Steve with a soft “So, I gotta ask… Of all the ‘secret code names’ you could have chosen for me, why Daisy?”

And Steve flushes. He looks away, and Eddie can feel him lacing their fingers together as he speaks.

“Don’t laugh, but uh, when I was little, my babysitter used to take me to the nearby park all the time. I was a pretty rambunctious kid, so it was a normal thing for us. One day we were walking to the park, and I saw that there was a daisy growing out of a crack in the sidewalk. I’d never seen something like that before, and I thought it was so cool, so I showed it to my babysitter. 

"She said ‘You know, sometimes people are like this daisy. Life puts them in a hard spot, and they think they won't ever be able to grow. But some daisies are stubborn, and make the choice to grow anyway.' And that’s what you are, Eddie. A stubborn little daisy, still growing despite the hard circumstances around you. That's why I picked it.”

He finally looks up to meet Eddie’s gaze and frowns, says a soft “Oh, baby,” as he reaches out and wipes at the tears building in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie grabs the hand and holds it to his cheek as he blinks back the waterworks, and he just feels so much-

“I fucking love you, Steve Harrington. I know it’s probably way too early to say that, but god, I need you to know that someone loves you.”

And Steve melts. That’s the only way Eddie can put it, his boyfriend - and god, what a crazy thing to even think - goes completely gooey as he leans in and presses his forehead to Eddie’s.

“After all the shit we’ve been through, I think we’re allowed to do things a little early, yeah? And, just so there’s no more confusion, I love you too.” 

*

A year later finds Eddie slowly pulled to consciousness, gently guided by the morning sunshine streaming in from a nearby window. It takes a moment for his sleepy brain to wake up, to register the feeling of Steve pressing feather-light kisses to the cluster of daisies that decorate the back of Eddie’s shoulder. He hums softly in approval and can almost feel Steve smile as he mutters “Morning, Daisy Bell,” against sleep-warmed skin.

Eddie huffs a laugh and turns just enough to capture Steve’s mouth with his own, morning breath be damned. 

“Mornin’, buttercup.”

[hotluncheddie]

for @thefreakandthehair spring fanworks challenge! i chose the dialogue prompt “Listen, I’m a fern, okay? I need sunlight.” thanks so much lex for doing this again! so fun!!

(high school steddie, post s2 pre s3, 1.6k)

(now on Ao3 !)

🌱

Eddies Munson is the Marmite of middle ages female teachers. They either take his theatrics and short attention span in stride, seeing that yes he is trying he just needs things done a little differently. That he does genuinely think he’s funny when he spouts his little lines, the joke being aimed at the room and not at the teachers expense. That yes he is trying actually and does want to graduate, a lil’ help maybe? 

They either see that for what it is. Or, they hate his fucking guts. 

The theater teacher, much to his continued chagrin, seems to be in the latter. Which is abysmal, awful. Genuinely soul crushing for one Eddie munson.

Why? Because he needs to pass theater, with extra credit (for being ‘an integral and helpful part of the spring show’) in order to potentially scrape through and pass the year. Having to take senior year again you’d think some teachers would cut you a little slack, even to just see the back of you. But no, not in Eddie's experience. They fuck you over same as always. 

That's how he’s sitting out back on the theater building steps, dying for the cigarettes in his van. But he doesn’t wanna go over there. Can’t go over there, because he's dressed like a glorified shrub. 

‘Oof, what are you supposed to be?’

Oh how wonderful, beautiful, a truly glorious turn of events. Steve Harrinton is here. Eddie rests his face in his hands for a moment and resists the urge to scream. Steve Harrington in his stupid blue jeans and his new stupid glasses that he sometimes wears, which shouldn’t look as good as they do. Shouldn’t fit his stupid pretty face but they do. They do and Eddie wants to cry.  

Squinting up at Steve, who's haloed by sun rays because his giant, massive head is directly over the spring sunshine, Eddie sighs.    

‘I was supposed to be Puc, but noooo I'm the dry ass narrator with no creative freedom.’ He flings his arms up and glares down at the toes of his sneakers. Away from Harrington's big, stupid face. 

Because that's the real kicker. He likes theater, wants to be in the play, but whenever he tries to act the teacher just seems to think he's goofing off. And sure, maybe he took some creative liberties with the audition script. Maybe they’ve been in a sort of stalemate with the tone of voice the narrator should deliver certain lines in. But that's art, man! Interpretation! But the iron fisted Ms Farrel is having none of it. So Eddie has to take regular breaks to seeth.  

‘Puc? like hockey puck?’ Steve interrupts Eddie’s internal monologue, sounds actually confused. Oh to be pretty.

‘Listen, I’m a fern, okay? I need sunlight. so move outta the way would you. you're harshing my mellow.’ 

‘Geez sorry dude.’ Steve moves so he's next to Eddie, leaning up against the building wall. He messes with something in his jacket, moving it to the back of his jeans, then slips a pack and lighter out and lights up, talking out the corner of his mouth. ‘You want one? apology for the mellow? condolences for the outfit?’ 

Eddie rolls his eyes, fights down his smile. That was actually funny, maybe there were genuine reasons this guy was popular. Ones beyond generational wealth. 

‘Apology accepted Harrington.’ Eddie hums, plucks a smoke from Steve’s carton. Tries to steady his heart rate at Steve lighting if for him, leaning in and cupping his hand to protect the flame from the breeze and everything.  

Eddie inhales deep, closing his eyes to savor the taste. Feels a bit calmer now, less like screaming. ‘What are you doing here anyway? it’s Friday at 4, you not got fair maidens swooning for a romp with king Steve?’ Eddie peeks back over at him, sees Steve looking Eddies hand holding the smoke poised by his lips. 

‘Huh?’ Steve’s eyes snap up to meet Eddie’s eyes, ears tinting pink. Weird. 

‘You looking to score huh? Well, not right now, I’m wallowing.’ Eddie rubs at his eyes, glowers at the rustling of his costume.  

‘Oh nah, no, I needed some uh, extra credit. Had to talk to Ms. O’Donald.’ Steve pulls some rolled up papers out of his other back pocket and wiggles them. 

‘Ah a man after my own heart, I see.. Or are you just doing it to get into some Ivy League?’ Eddie cocks his head, sneers at the rich boy.

Steve just laughs, no anger. Scratches the back of his neck. ‘God no, I think I uh, missed the application deadline actually. Had, um, some health issues, so.’ He fiddles with his wire frames, looks embarrassed, maybe a little sad.

Eddie eyes him, The Fallen King. Steve Harrington. Eddie never really had that much of an issue with him. Always paid for his weed upfront and seemed to interact with Eddie with an air of vague boredom rather than, like, wishing Eddie was dead in a ditch. Plus there were those couple parties where Steve was wasted and spent some of the night just hanging around Eddie while he dealt. He was kind of a goofy drunk, kept asking Eddie what shampoo he used, refusing to take ‘whatever's cheapest’ for an answer. So, seeing him looking even slightly like a kicked puppy has Eddie’s “look out for people who know how cruel the world can be” radar going off. He doesn’t know the story but some shit went down with Harrington, you can't cover bruises like that.  

‘Well, don’t sweat it too much. Doubt anyones gonna start calling you four eyes. You’re still the cream of Hawkins crop dude, Ivy league or not.’ Eddie heaves himself up to stand, crushing the but of his cigarette out under his shoe. 

‘Plus, your extra credit looks like that.’ Eddie points at Steve's fist of papers. ‘While mine looks like this.’ Eddie holds his arms out, giving Steve a twirl and ending with a bow. ‘So cheer up buttercup.’

Steve dips his head and chuckles, looks up at Eddie through his lashes, grinning. It’s all sunshine and long days, sun warm skin and freckles. 

Eddie swallows and looks away. Bounces his shoulders against the brick. 

Steve clears his throat, mirrors Eddie’s positions against the wall. ‘Look, there is actually something I want to talk to you about. You run the D&D club right?’

Eddie hardens a little, see Harrington’s pretty chill, especially for the past year. But Hellfire is his baby. Eddie’s baby, full of Eddie’s people. 

‘I do.’ 

‘Right, so there's these kids I babysit and uh, they really like that game. They start highschool in the fall and I just wondered if you’d tell the other members to maybe keep an eye on them? Let them join and like, you know.’ Steve gestures vaguely to the school around them. 

Eddie can't help it, he moves so he’s back standing, facing Steve. Steve Harrington who just asked him to look out for kids, who he babysits for. Wearing glasses and looking like honey. While Eddie is covered in paper leaves and wearing what could honestly be argued as tights. What the fuck? 

‘Babysitter huh?’ Eddie smirks but sees the way Steve squares his shoulders and turns to face him, daring him to keep going. Eddie’s smirk softens to a smile. ‘I’ll let the guys know Harrington. Or, uh, recruit them myself if, you know, the extra credit doesn’t work out.’ And Steve smiles, understanding but there's no pity on his face. 

‘Thanks Eddie, appreciate it.’ Steve tugs on one of his leaves which makes Eddie blush because he's stupid and the straight boy in front of him is being nice. His name in Steve's mouth getting tucked away for a rainy day.  

‘Anytime.’ Eddie says quietly, finally noticing how close they’ve gotten. 

‘I’ll have to come see the play. Make sure to voice how “that narrator really puts on a show, truly spectacular”.’ Steve crosses his arms and brings a hand up to his chin, as if he's some snotty theater critic. Eddie snorts. ‘Butter up Ms Farrel for you.’ and Steve winks. Eddie's breath catching in his throat. 

‘I’d like that.’ Eddie rasps. Lame. Why is he so LAME. 

‘It’s settled then. See you front row.’ Steve smiles, boyish and charming. Eddie swears Steve's eyes flick down to his lips. But he's also willingly dressed as a tree so his judgment can't be trusted right now. 

‘Munson!!’ A voice calls from inside making Steve and Eddie jump, moving so they’re no longer standing almost toe to toe. Breaks over it seems. Eddie is definitely not looking forward to going back in there but, needs must. 

‘Well, uhm, duty calls.’ Eddie steps back. Giving Steve a little two finger salute, turning to go back up the steps. 

‘Break a leg’ Steve watches him go, a little amused glint to his smile. Eddie only trips over his feet a little ascending the stairs.  

Steve starts to walk backwards, towards the parking lot. He raises his voice slightly and Eddie stops in his tracks to listen. ‘Nice seeing you in a different outfit. You look a lot less scary.’ and that amused glint flashes in his eye, like he knows Eddie’s never really been scary at all. ‘I’ve been trying out a new look myself, sort of inspired by you.’ Steve winks again, turning on his heel and Eddie gets a full view of the light blue hanky shoved in Steve's right back pocket.

Eddie coughs, splutters, feels his brain fizzle and the blood in his body moves treacherously to one place. Sees Steve throw his head back and laugh as he walks away, must have heard Eddie choke on his own tongue. 

He needs a moment, slumping back down on the steps. Steve Harrington who babysits. Steve Harrington who's gonna come see his play. Steve harrington who might not be so straight after all. 

Maybe spring is his season.

[thefreakandthehair]

If nothing means anything, then everything is possible. 

Eddie stands by this philosophy– he lives and breathes it, in fact. The nihilism embedded in him from his young years keeps him from making choices out of fear, or worry, or anxiety. He weaponizes repudiation when he scoffs at college, at a trade, at a plan, and leans into something he genuinely enjoys. 

Bats. 

One of his special interests from birth— at least, according to Wayne— are his bats. He loves their freedom, their peculiarity, their misunderstood nature. After all, Hawkins is a small town and Eddie knows what it feels like to be considered odd, to be misunderstood, to be unfairly judged at first glance. 

So Eddie shirks convention and manages to work his way into a position as a wildlife rehabilitation expert at a small conservatory just outside of Indianapolis. He works with all of the unwanted, weird, ostracized animals: snakes, tarantulas, bearded dragons, salamanders, and of course, his favorites. His bats. 

Spring comes in with a roar on a random Tuesday in April. Eddie spends most of the morning tending to the various enclosures, paying special attention to his favorite brown bat, Sonar, and clearing the paths behind the conservatory for the nature walk. He’s led enough of these elementary school field trips to know that kindergarteners can and will find things to trip over. 

“No skinned knees today,” he mutters out loud as he kicks a few large rocks off the path and tosses a few large sticks deeper into the woods. 

Sweat drips from his forehead, one bead trailing down his nose, and he wipes it on the collar of his tan button up as he looks up at the sky. Clear, cloudless, and transparent. It’s not Eddie’s favorite time of day, nor his favorite time of year, but even he has to appreciate the beauty in this shade of cerulean, so vulnerable and fragile.  

A warm breeze picks up and plays with the mess of rogue curls hanging haphazardly from his bun, whipping them around as if April itself is whispering some secret into his ear. With his eyes closed, Eddie pauses for a moment to take pleasure in the details, in the quiet, in the feeling of wind against the sweaty sheen of his forehead.

He can’t interpret the message in the gust of April air, but he can feel its promise. 

Or, Eddie Munson shirks convention to become a wildlife rehabilitation expert. When Steve Harrington takes his kindergarten class on a field trip to the Indiana Wildlife Conservatory, he gets a little more than just a lesson on bats and fingerpainting.

[read the rest of the answers are all inside of this on ao3!]

and a special thank you to @withacapitalp and @bayouteche for both beta-reading AND tolerating my incessant rambling about this for the last two weeks!

[scoops-stevie-archive]

this was written for @thefreakandthehair's spicy six spring fanworks challenge, for the prompt, "come lie down with me, i'll read it to you"! thank you so much for letting me participate, lex!

April showers bring May flowers, but March comes in like a lion. Winds up to fifty miles an hour with rain and thunderstorms following close behind. Most people would hunker down with preparations to ride it out for however long the weatherman on TV decides, but most people haven't fought an inter-dimensional war for four years in a row and don't equate the rain pelting down on the roof to the sound of beating bat wings, or the violent winds to their devilish screeching. They get pushed around in a gust and don't think about being pinned down and feasted upon by razor sharp teeth.

Most people aren't Steve Harrington.

Unsurprisingly, Family Video stays open during one of these storms. Also unsurprisingly, they haven’t had a single customer since they opened that morning. Steve watches from behind the counter as it rains sideways across the parking lot. The trees are bending in ways that make him nervous and he's imagined a branch snapping off and going through his car one too many times. He taps an erratic rhythm on the counter, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes locked forward.

"If it gets any worse, we're closing early," Robin says from somewhere in the rows of tapes, probably sprawled across the floor. "It's supposed to go on until tomorrow afternoon, and I'm not risking being stranded here."

Steve would argue that it’s already worse, but a particularly harsh gale that sounds like a moaning monster from a D&D session makes his blood freeze in his veins. He nods, his jaw clenched. “Agreed.”

Worse comes when the power starts flickering. It was just once and for barely a second but it was enough for Steve and Robin to shut all the computers and lights off and make a beeline for the breakroom. He's already made his check-in calls with the Party; they're all safe and sound at home with promises to not step foot outside until this all passes.

“Be careful, alright?” Robin says when Steve drops her off at home. The wind is whipping her hair around her face and she’s struggling to hold the door open with the force of it. He waits until she’s safely inside before he pulls away.

There was a lull in the rain during the drive, but now it’s back with a vengeance. His wipers are barely doing anything and he can’t even see five feet in front of him. He pulls over somewhere on the side of the road to wait until it hopefully dies down. There’s thunder in the distance now, and all Steve can think of is Kate fucking Bush and Max lying comatose in a hospital bed. He watches the rain cascade in waves down the windshield and suddenly he’s back on the roof of Starcourt, his Members Only jacket doing absolutely fuck-all to keep him dry in the downpour.

Steve grips the steering wheel and can barely hear the next clap of thunder over the gust of wind that's shaking the car, or the blood rushing through his ears, his head filled with screams – his, Robin's, Dustin's, Eddie's–

Eddie.

Blind panic blooms in his chest and it takes a few tries to get the car started because of how bad his hands are shaking. Finally, the ignition turns and he's speeding off. He doesn't bother to follow traffic laws.

Gotta get to Eddie. Gotta get there before the bats do, he and Dustin can't hold them off on their own, shouldn't have left them behind–

Steve doesn’t remember haphazardly parking the car next to Eddie's van, or throwing the front door open with a strangled shout of his boyfriend’s name.

"Eddie!"

There's a thump coming from the back bedroom and Eddie comes tripping over his own feet in his rush to get to him. Steve wants to cry at the sight of him, but instead his breath gets caught in his throat with another wave of panic as his vision blurs and all he can see is Eddie’s bloodied smile as Nancy desperately tries to stop the bleeding from his torso.

Eddie takes a cautious step forward. "Baby?" His hands are lifted in front of him as if Steve is a frightened animal.

"You - you're-" Steve tries to get out but making words feels like gargling pebbles, deep down in his throat. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, shaking along with the rest of him.

"Where are you right now, Stevie?" Eddie asks gently. He doesn't touch him but he's close enough now that he could.

Steve shakes his head. "I-I don't -" He swallows. "The bats - had to come back, couldn't leave you and Dustin-"

"Can I touch you?"

Steve nods.

Eddie doesn’t pull him in immediately. He curls a steady hand around the knob of his shoulder, his thumb rubbing his collarbone in soothing circles. His other hand goes to his right elbow and then he slowly drags him to his chest in a bear hug. Steve goes limp like a rag doll and lets Eddie hold him tight.

"There we go," Eddie whispers into his hair, arms wrapped around his shoulders and waist. Steve pants raggedly against his neck. “Shh, I gotcha, sweetheart.” Fingers slide up the back of his neck and thread through his hair, gently tugging and scratching at his scalp in a way that makes Steve shiver and press closer. His own hands come up and grab fistfuls of the back of Eddie’s shirt. Eddie kisses his temple. “You don’t have to tell me what made you freak out if you don’t want to, but I don’t think you want the neighbors seein’ you like this.”

Slowly, without pulling away, Eddie kicks the front door shut and walks them back to his room where he undresses Steve slowly and methodically, not like he usually would when he’s trying to get his boy out of his clothes, and replaces them with a worn t-shirt and sweatpants. Steve buries his nose in the collar of the shirt and breathes in the scene of home. There’s a tiredness always present after a panic attack that leaves him weary and aching all the way down to his bones. He kicks his jeans to the side and sends a paperback with them. It isn’t one he’s seen Eddie read before; the dragon on the green cover and the yellow letters are enough to draw Steve’s attention and he flips through the pages after reading the summary on the back.

“Come lie down with me,” Eddie says with a gentle hand on Steve’s hip, “I’ll read it to you.”

Eddie shuffles him toward the bed and Steve all but falls onto the mattress, burying his face in the pillow on Eddie’s side of the bed (because he’s slept here enough times that they have respective sides, now) and inhaling the intoxicating smell that’s pure Eddie – cigarette smoke and the strawberry shampoo he uses. He’s maneuvered until he’s tucked into his boyfriend’s side.

The storm is all but forgotten outside. He can’t hear the harsh winds or the rain pounding on the trailer’s tin roof. Eddie’s bedroom is a bubble of safety and love and warmth. Steve has no nightmares in this place. Here, all he knows is adept fingers running through his hair and the way he slowly starts to drift off at the soothing sound of Eddie’s voice rumbling in his ear as he reads to him, picking up where he left off.

“The Librarian slept on, lulled by the whispering of the rain…”

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Fluttering of wings, splashing of waves

Oh look, I finished my entry for @thefreakandthehair's spring challenge! My topic was bird watching and Steddie, enjoy!

Also on Ao3

It doesn't take long for both of them to notice.

The thing is - both Eddie and Steve are fairly observant guys, Steve with his constant concern for everyone's well-being but his own and Eddie's survival being dependent on recognizing when quiet contempt and judging is about to transcend into physical violence or lynching, the good ol' American small town tradition that Hawkins always seemed on verge of.

So yes, observing other people isn't exactly new for them, but now that they were discharged from the hospital ("They made me eat vegetables, Wayne!" "They also kept you alive so that's a win in my book, boy!"), they soon notice that while their bodies were patched up and healed as well as possible, the same can't be said for their minds.

They have been spending a lot of time together, with Nancy and Robin now gone for college. Steve sometimes wonders why it is that all of his best friendships, bonds for life, come from the worst thing that has ever happened to him, but maybe he shouldn't complain so much - the universe decided to drag him through blood, pain, tears and lots of concussions, but then remembered maybe he should get something good too, so it tossed Dustin, Robin and Eddie at him, his little brother, his soulmate and...

And Eddie. Someone he used to scoff at, maybe feel some disdain for or even jealousy, but now...

Steve has always been predictable. He throws himself into danger, takes all the responsibility he can because that's what grounds him. It's easy to keep it together when everyone else is freaking out - you simply need to, there's no other choice. Now that Robin and Nancy are gone and the kids are way more preoccupied with high school and their own healing, Steve doesn't have anyone to keep it together for. Anyone but Eddie.

But that's not really all, is it? Because Eddie makes him laugh, makes him feel at ease and Steve kind of hates himself for it, for not being alert enough in his presence because he's supposed to keep Eddie safe, but he just makes him relax so much, he jokes around but doesn't cross his boundaries and Steve just doesn't know anymore-

So yes, they notice things about each other fairly quickly, but talking about it? That's a whole separate can of worms. "And I have a warehouse full of these worm cans, Steve, take your pick."

When they finally bring it up, it's April of 1987, close to the end of academic school year. Eddie has finally graduated and started working odd jobs, not paying well but at least legal, Steve still rewinding tapes in Family Video and going through potential career options, dragging Eddie into the endless pile of leaflets, articles and even some study programs. "We won't be stuck here forever," he tells Eddie and there is a glint in Eddie's eye, something that clutches at Steve's chest and whispers you will get him out of here. You will make him happy, in any way he allows.

Eddie hands Steve a leaflet about part-time sports coach position. "Come on, Harrington, you know you want to," snickers Eddie and leans back in his chair. "And about every woman in Hawkins wants you to as well, those shorts were sinful, I tell you. But seriously...you'd be great at it. You have a way with kids and you were pretty good in high school, no?"

Steve chuckles with him, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes. Not when he sees that one of the requirements is leading swimming lessons. "I...I don't think that's a good fit," he admits quietly, almost ashamed. "It's not like you're wrong, those shorts did look good on me," he admits and elicits another snicker from Eddie, "but...I don't think I could do all they want me to do."

Eddie frowns, not at Steve but in contemplation, and takes the leaflet back, his eyes impatiently scanning the text. "...oh," he breathes out and gives Steve an apologetic smile. "The pool thing?"

Steve nods and presses his lips together, hoping the words will stay in, but that's just Eddie's strange spell. Steve wants him to know, wants him to know everything, not just the pretty parts of himself. "The pool thing. It's fucking stupid, you know. I thought that I survived all of it, but...I guess some parts of me died too. Which sounds way too dramatic, but I haven't been able to just...live. It's like my life is a minefield now and I've been trying to avoid where they're buried..."

He glances at Eddie and swallows, his throat tight. "Sorry. That sounds so melodramatic, especially saying it to a guy who actually nearly died. I don't know where that came from, please just...just ignore I said anything. But yeah, I don't think I could do the coach thing."

Eddie is quiet for a moment and Steve thinks that maybe he messed things up. Maybe he showed too much of himself, like he always does, maybe he's finally managed to chase Eddie away but then those long, calloused fingers are on his shoulder, squeezing him, grounding him.

"I won't ignore that, Steve," says Eddie and Steve hates how sad he looks, wonders if it would be awkward to hug him, to offer comfort that he himself doesn't know.

"I won't ignore that because I get it," continues Eddie and Steve doesn't think, he covers Eddie's hand with his own. "Why do you think I mostly do night shifts or work in warehouses, restocking or whatever? Why I stay inside most of the time?"

Shame and insecurity now gone, Steve strokes his fingers along Eddie's knuckles. "I've noticed and...I have my theory. But I didn't want to bring it up. Didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

Tilting his head back, Eddie laughs and Steve's heart beats faster at the sound. "You could never. But maybe it's good to...to say it out loud. I think we're kind of dancing around it, trying to ignore the stuff that we're dealing with, but maybe it would help. Maybe admitting it will help us figure out how to handle it? Because to be completely honest with you, Steve - I hate it. I hate pretending that everything is over when it fucking isn't."

As if Steve could ever say no to those dark, trusting eyes. "Okay, let's try."

At first, the words don't come and when they do, they are aborted and unclear, but gradually, they start flowing and when they do, they don't stop. They spend the whole evening talking about it, finding the right expressions to explain what the Upside Down took from them.

Steve shudders and grows rigid whenever he hears running or splashing water. From the movie nights and unspoken sleepovers they have, Eddie knows Steve only takes showers now, short and almost scorching, and never runs a bath for himself, no matter how stiff and painful his muscles are. The floating sensation of water used to bring him comfort, but now it is replaced by the memory of being grabbed and dragged under the surface, air leaving his lungs, his head ringing with pressure...

Eddie's breathing quickens and panic sets in whenever he hears flapping of wings. He knows that demobats are no longer in Hawkins, he knows that they're gone along with their master, but he can't help it, he never feels safe outside, can't raise his head to the sky to persuade himself that it's okay.

Steve wants to throw up whenever something touches his neck. Eddie can relate.

Eddie feels the need to cover his wrists all the time. After being held down by demobats, he feels like he needs to protect them. Weirdly it's not his maimed chest, not his scarred sides, but the wrists. That explains the thick leather bracelets.

Steve can't stand the feeling of not being fully there, with marihuana and alcohol. "It's the truth serum," he tells Eddie and admits, finally admits how guilty he felt for giving Dustin's full name to the Russians, wonders how much damage he could do if he ever let himself go. The Russians are gone, but the guilt stays.

And Eddie feels uneasy under the open sky. Maybe it's because it was nearly the last thing he would see in his life. Maybe it has something to do with the bird thing. But it is so difficult to just walk on the street, be in the open. Be vulnerable.

"The funny thing is," says Steve and shifts closer to Eddie on the couch, Eddie with his beer and Steve with soda, "when things were still...you know, shit, I didn't feel this way. I was able to go wherever I wanted, do what I wanted, because the danger was actually there, you know? We did what we had to do and I felt like...like I didn't need to think about it, I just did things. But now...I guess I just don't trust it. Things being fine. Hell, I can't even trust myself," he laughs and it's bitter, pained. "The fuck is this? When did I go from actually fighting monsters to shaking like a stupid chihuahua from hearing someone washing their hands?"

Eddie takes a swig of his beer and closes his eyes, nodding. His hair is messier than usual from lying around and nervous tugging of his fingers, but Steve still thinks it looks great. Or maybe not just great, he wouldn't like it on just anyone, but...maybe it's just that it's Eddie. The thought doesn't scare him as much as it used to.

It takes a moment for Eddie to speak, but when he does, he stares at the ceiling, his eyes large and glassy. "Yeah, I get that. I thought I graduated from being a coward, but-"

"Not a coward, man." Steve hates interrupting people, he was lectured on it way too many times, but this is the single time he feels like it's justified. "Don't call yourself a coward. Because you're not."

Eddie shoots him a small smile. "Well, let me rephrase it. I thought I'd stop freezing when I got scared, but look at me now. Wayne noticed it too, you know? He...he actually helped." He shifted even closer, now sitting so close to Steve their legs were touching. "He told me that he went through something similar when he came back from Vietnam. Just...small flashes. Random things reminding him of what he saw there. It fucked him up pretty badly, he said, uh..." Biting his lip, he took a deep breath. "He said that's why he never got married or had kids. That he didn't feel...healthy enough. Whole enough. But then of course I got dropped on his doorstep and he had to deal with the shit."

Steve is staring now, he's distantly aware that it's not very polite, but damn, that sounds like a miracle. Maybe Wayne is a much stronger man then they are, but he just has to ask. "How...how did he do it? I mean...it feels so unreal. That you can just...deal with it."

"He said it wasn't easy," Eddie mutters, fiddling with his rings. "But he...uh. Shit, this is embarrassing but also kinda amazing? He said I was his biggest motivation to get better, so he...he dealt with those things by kind of overwriting the memories with new ones with me? Like...he got really, really freaked out by bushes and dense woods, you know. Found it difficult to go anywhere where he couldn't see everything around him. But he...he started taking me out to the woods. Bit by bit, I mean, it wasn't immediate, but he started teaching me about nature. Showing me some edible things, animals if we got to see them. I didn't know it back then, but he was freaking out all the time. But eventually, he stopped associating the woods with...that. And started thinking about what he'd teach me next, what our next trip would be."

"Wow." Steve has always liked Wayne, but now? He thinks the man is incredible. "Your uncle is amazing," he whispers. "Just...just amazing. He came up with that and it worked? He did that for you? I...wow."

Eddie laughs, nodding and downing the rest of his beer. "Right? And he talks about it like it's no big deal. He just did it. I wish I had the guts too, you know, because I really want to do some of the stuff with him that we used to do. He's not pushing, but...I really want to spend time with him. Do the same thing he did for me." After a brief pause, he continues. "You know, we have this really silly thing that we used to do that I want to experience again. So fucking much. We call it bird watching, but it actually is more of a bird spotting. We'd just sit together on the porch, smoke and try to spot birds. Like, you'd point at a crow or a pigeon or whatever and the other would say "yep, sure is a bird". It sounds silly, but...I just hate that I can't do it anymore, you know."

Steve stares into the distance for a moment, lost in thought. And just as Eddie is about to nudge him, to ask what he's thinking about, he snaps out of it, looking at Eddie. "You can and you will," he proclaims resolutely.

"Um." He's laughing again, but this time it's a bit awkward, uncertain. "Not sure which part of "I panic when I'm under the open sky or when I hear wings" you didn't hear, Steve."

But his friend just shakes his head, gets that determined look that never ends well for their enemies. "I heard all of it. And I thought we'd all be fucked up forever, but your uncle could do it, man. And he did it alone. We're together in this and I don't know about you, but I'm sick of letting that disgusting place control my every move. So let me ask you - do you want to rewrite memories together?"

And see, this was is thing with Steve Harrington. Once he makes up his mind, he will follow through - and even though Eddie is still scared shitless, the idea of Steve facing his fears alone somehow feels even worse. Cracking open another beer, he takes a mighty gulp before nodding, offering his hand to seal the deal. "Name the time and place, big boy."

--

They aren't stupid about it, not more stupid than usual. Steve insists on making some rules and plans in case things go to shit. And while Eddie isn't exactly a fan of planning things, this actually does sound like a good idea. So they write it all down, figure out time and place, a calm Sunday when they don't have a shift, around 2 PM so there's enough light and warmth for them to attempt to relax - which is pretty fucking impossible because their destination is none other than Lover's Lake. No use wasting water sitting by a running tap or watch bird puppets, as Steve eloquently puts it.

Steve also insists on choosing just one of the fears to tackle for him and Eddie, making a very good point that it's supposed to be baby steps, not giant stomps, whatever that is supposed to mean. It's actually more like two for Eddie because birds and open sky go together like goat cheese and weird taste or something, but it would be really difficult to separate the two.

And finally, after some research, they come up with a back up plan - if either of them gets too much in their head, the other one needs to distract them. "Doesn't matter what it is, apparently," says Eddie while he is munching on another handful of dry cereal, "it just has to be unexpected. Basically to shock the panic out of your brain. Which sounds...very healthy. Yep. So when I'm freaking out about bird stuff, just...tell me you're getting married to Tammy Thompson or something."

Steve snickers and packs some drinks and snacks as well as a blanket, the forever babysitter. "For you, Munson? I'll describe our whole Muppet wedding and ask you to be my best man."

--

The walk is...fine. Well, that's a lie. The walk is fucking horrendous but the trees help, giving Eddie at least some semblance of a shelter. His heart is beating like crazy, sure, but he's trying to be normal, he really is, because Steve is keeping it together and distracting him as well as he can. After they spook a bunch of birds and their flapping of wings almost has Eddie hyperventilating, Steve grabs his hand, squeezing it and demanding Eddie tells him about his favorite Lord of the Rings character and why it is Aragorn - that elicits a half-snort, half-whimper from Eddie, but it's enough to keep him on track.

They find a suitable spot, not fully in the open, but covered by tall grass and in the shadow of a large tree. The lake is a few steps away and when they sit down on the blanket, they can't really see it, but the sound is there - calming for Eddie but Steve...yeah, he doesn't look so good. That's when Eddie grasps his shoulder and asks him to explain why basketball is so good and how does one even understand what's going on. "Eyes up here, Steve, tell me everything. How many people on each team. Are there different functions, roles or something like that? And why are the shorts so short?"

It goes like that for a while. Whenever one of them gets too stressed, too quiet, the other one shoots a question that makes them think, about something they really, really like. So far, so good.

Except then it happens. As if there was some twisted re-enactment of their Upside Down misfortunes, a bunch of birds loudly take off and circle above the two, flapping their wings and even though they seem to be leaving, Eddie suddenly can't breathe, he's back on the ground, being held by his throat and his wrists, choking on blood-

"Eddie, hey Eddie, stay with me." Steve's voice is panicked too, he's doing what he can but the questions aren't working, Eddie is paralyzed, rigid on the ground.

Licking his dry lips, he wheezes out, "I think it's good time to surprise me, Steve. Like now. Please."

"Okay, yeah, okay."

Eddie prays for a quick shock. Maybe learning about Harrington's porn preferences. About dirty secrets from high school. Maybe some of Robin's romantic misadventures. Something, anything to get him out of his head.

He gets his wish when Steve leans over him and presses his lips against Eddie's.

Eddie's heart skips a beat. Maybe two, three. But he isn't dead, so it has to keep beating, he thinks, but he can't really tell - not when all of the feeling in his body goes to his lips, to the gentle press that Eddie has been craving for months.

It takes him a moment to realize that it's suddenly quiet, the birds are gone and Steve is still above him, looking at Eddie with concern. "Did it work?" he asks and Eddie wants to punch him, murder him, kiss him senseless.

"Sure did," he croaks and tries to play it cool, failing miserably. Maybe if he turns it into a joke, Steve won't notice that he actually enjoyed this, that this isn't just a distraction tactic to him. "Gotta be careful there, Steve," he laughs weakly, "you might give a guy false hope that this is actually something you wanted."

He expects a disgusted scrunch of Steve's nose, a shock maybe, but instead he just leans down and tucks Eddie's hair behind his ear. "False hope?" he whispers and holds his gaze, braver than any and all of them. "For this concrete guy, it's pretty much an open invitation. Although I should have asked, sorry, it's been on my mind since forever and when I saw you like that, I just panicked. So, uh...sorry. If that's not what you want. I mean-"

"Steve," he sighs, exasperated. "I just had a taste of what that mouth can do and I'm pretty sure you're just wasting its potential." His hand sneaks into Steve's hair and pulls him closer, kissing the tip of his nose. "And I can promise you this isn't a trauma response or something. I've been going crazy about you for months now. Just ask Wayne. Or better, don't. He's been making fun of me for it. Mercilessly."

They dissolve into a fit of giggles and maybe a bit of hysteria, too, but the world is quiet now, the sounds of wings and waves distant and the warmth of their bodies is grounding, safe. "He can start a mocking club with Robin, then. She's been calling me her cute bisexual disaster, if you can believe that," says Steve.

"Oh, I absolutely can." The grin is almost painful, but he can't help it, wonders if he'll associate flapping of wings with Steve's lips now, instead of all the pain and horror. Maybe not immediately but there's no need for giant stomps. "Well, big boy...what do you say we give them something to mock us for?"

Steve leans down and smiles against his lips, his breath tickling Eddie's face. "I thought you'd never ask."

--

It's several days later that Eddie catches in uncle home, smoking in his chair and staring at the darkening trees. He quietly takes a stool outside and plops next to him, stealing a lighter to light his cigarette.

He tries to act casual, but the disbelieving smile and pride in Wayne's eyes makes him blush, his face being the biggest traitor of all.

He motions towards the trees where something moved, the sound of its wings muffled and distant. "Looks like a bird, right?" he says.

Wayne reaches over and ruffles his hair, takes another drag from his own cigarette. "Sure does."

[toburnup]

where it counts | by adure | explicit

They finish the movie and when Steve pulls away, it's like Eddie's been branded, Steve's palm permanently emblazoned on his skin through his jeans. He must notice Eddie's hard-on but he doesn't say anything. They talk about the movie while Eddie keeps the blanket piled in his lap and wills his dick to calm down.

"Next week?" Eddie asks on his way out, voice clumsy, tripping between words.

"Yeah," Steve holds the door open for him, smiles easily like Eddie's not holding his jacket in front of him. So fucking obvious. "Next week."

Steve and Eddie have a series of movie nights.

[read more on ao3 | part of Lex's spring fanworks challenge 2023! hosted by @thefreakandthehair]

[steddieasitgoes]

You Were All Yellow | written by steddieasitgoes | ao3 link 

For @thefreakandthehair​​ Spring Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge!. My prompt was “Yellow.” 

“Yellow!” Eddie shouts confidently, voice echoing throughout Steve’s crowded family room. “Stevie’s favorite color is yellow.”

Eddie waits for Steve’s confirmation but finds himself on the receiving end of shouting. Robin is yelling something about the color green. Max shouts back different shades of blue, and Dustin is elbows deep in a dissertation-style argument about why Steve’s favorite color is actually salmon pink. The others are loud in their own right, arguing over who wins the point in their impromptu “Who Knows Steve Best” game and the privilege of riding shotgun in the Beamer for an entire month.

It’s total chaos, but the loudest person in the room is Steve, who hasn’t uttered a word since the simple question was asked.

Everyone is so busy debating, no one pays any attention to Eddie as he collapses on the couch beside Steve. It takes a quick elbow to Steve’s ribs to get him to focus on Eddie, but it’s worth it when those big hazel eyes land on him.

“It is yellow, right?” Eddie asks, suddenly feeling bashful.

It has to be, Eddie thinks.

An entire side of Steve’s closet is sectioned off for yellow shirts and sweaters. Steve’s favorite bath towel is a worn yellow one falling apart at the seams. He drinks out of a yellow smiley face mug every morning, and he only eats yellow candy when given the chance.

And that’s just the obvious things.

Eddie’s taken note of the way Steve gravitates towards yellow items when he’s flipping through the department store catalogs he gets in the mail. Passes over the blues and greens for the pale and banana yellow options. He always reaches for the yellow highlighter when they’re studying together and doesn’t hesitate to grab the yellow game piece on board game nights.

There’s also the way Steve’s face lights up whenever Eddie walks around the house in one of his yellow sweatshirts — but Eddie tries not to let that cloud his judgment.

It’s honestly fitting, Eddie thinks.

Yellow is a rare favorite color, and Steve’s a rare form of perfection.

“I mean, I hadn’t thought much about it,” Steve admits, startling Eddie from his thoughts.

Eddie fidgets with the strings on the yellow sweatshirt he’s borrowed from Steve to keep from squirming under the weight of Steve’s eyes. He feels them scan Eddie from toe to head, lingering on his torso where the oversized yellow sweatshirt swallows Eddie whole. For a maddening moment, Eddie thinks Steve wants to swallow him whole too, but the thought disappears when Steve tears his eyes away from him.

“But yeah, I think uh, I think you’re right. There’s just something about yellow.”

Or:

It's the Spring of 1986 and Vecna is dead. Spring is in full effect. The flowers are blooming, the birds are singing, and Eddie's feelings for Steve are blossoming into something new.

Read the rest on ao3

20K+ Words | Mature

[sparkle-fiend]

Eddie used to love thunderstorms. Watching the heavy clouds roll in, bolts of light chased by the crash of thunder - like nature’s metal concert. Now, they just give him flashbacks; take him right back to the Upside Down and the moment he nearly died under a lightning streaked sky. He can’t breathe when a storm starts. (Fortunately Steve keeps an eye on the weather report all spring and summer, showing up at the first hint of thunder to keep the nightmares at bay.)

For the Spring Spicy Six Fanwork Challenge hosted by @thefreakandthehair - prompt for this one was “thunderstorm” 😄🌩⚡️

[stevethehairington]

love grows (where my rosemary goes)

MacksDramaticShenanigans

“Do you know you have, like, a trillion freckles on your face?” Steve asks right back, leaning in. His left hand winds itself around the strap of Eddie’s overalls, pulling him in too, and the right one catches Eddie’s jaw. It’s cold from his own lemonade glass, abandoned somewhere by his feet, and his thumb sweeps over the bridge of Eddie’s nose, the apples of his cheeks. Doubles back to tap the single freckle that sits right on the tip.

It’s true — Eddie does have freckles. Maybe not a trillion, but when the sun peeks out from behind the clouds like today and becomes a more permanent resident in the sky, those pesky little polka dots like to make their appearance, painting his face in faint faint dusting. They’re not obvious or anything; nobody really notices them unless they’re looking for them.

But that’s the thing about Steve. He’s always looking. Always seeing.

It’s why Eddie loves him so much.

It’s why — oh. He loves him.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

this fic was written for @thefreakandthehair's Spicy Six Spring Fanworks Challenge for the prompt, "do you know you have, like, a trillion freckles on your shoulders?"

ty lex for putting this event on, i have had an absolute blast writing this fic for it and i'm so so excited to see what everyone else does!!

also, i made a playlist for this fic, which you can find here!

[pizzaqueen]

picnic time with you

Part one of three

Rated T / getting together fluff / currently 3.7k

In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love…and picnics.

When Steve shares a memory with Eddie of a childhood picnic, it gives him an idea: he’s going to take Eddie on a picnic and finally tell him how he feels. And Robin’s going to help him plan it.

For @thefreakandthehair’s spring fanworks challenge / my prompt was ‘picnic’

Excerpt:

“Why are you so keen on this, anyway?” Steve looks at Eddie, pulse skipping. He drums his fingers on the floor. “You can’t be that bored.”

Eddie turns to Steve, lit by the flickering glow of the projector, and says, “I like knowing things about you.”

The simple sincerity hits Steve hard—it’s so Eddie. He can spend all day cracking wise and poking fun, and then he’ll come out with something so fucking heartfelt it knocks the wind right out of Steve. “Right, well…” Steve clears his throat. “Now you know I went on a picnic with my parents when I was like four.”

“You could tell me more about it.”

“I don’t know, man, there’s not a lot to tell. It was a picnic.”

“Details, Harrington, I want details.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he says, “Well… My dad wasn’t as busy with work back then, and sometimes we’d all do stuff like this. It was nice, I guess.” As he talks, an ache he was previously unaware of grows in his chest. He never knew how much he missed it. He rubs a hand across the base of his throat and shrugs. “It was just in the woods out back of the house but it made it more fun.” He ducks his gaze. “I don’t know.”

“I get it.”

Steve glances up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s like… I mean, when you’re a kid, everything seems bigger, anyway, but things like that“—Eddie waves at the screen where Steve from all those years ago is pointing at the camera; his dad’s hand appears, out of focus, waving until Steve waves back—”they can make an ordinary place feel like magic.”

Steve’s heart beats hard. “Yeah.” His hand rests on the floor between them, so close to Eddie’s, and if he moved it, just a little, he could touch—

But then Eddie hugs his arms around his knees, and Steve curls his fingers into his palm. “I don’t remember the last time I went on a picnic,” Eddie says.

“We should go.”

Read the rest of part one on AO3

[hexiewrites]

see you at the drive in (wish I was in your ride)

Steve shouldn’t care about what his roommate slash totally platonic best guy friend is doing every Saturday night.

He shouldn’t care about the fact that he’s gotten used to Eddie spending a full hour getting ready, primping and priming, blasting heavy metal and simultaneously talking Steve’s ear off as he meticulously applies eyeliner and fluffs out his hair just right before he heads out with a wave on yet another of his seemingly endless dates. They used to spend Friday and Saturday nights mostly together–hanging out, watching movies, smoking joints–and it’s not even that that bugs him the most, losing a friend like that.

It’s that it was his idea in the first place.

OR

Five times Eddie goes on dates with other people, and the one time where he finally goes with Steve.

(a little april fools day fic full of angst, miscommunication, and smut, for @thefreakandthehair's spicy six spring challenge, and the prompt drive in theatre)

[rated E, 13k]

[thefreakandthehair]

The Indianapolis Wildlife Conservatory is locked up and the animals are safe from prying eyes as Eddie closes the gate behind them and smiles, comfortable and easy. It’s his day off but he’s been here for a couple of hours now, setting up the date he’s spent a week meticulously planning before changing into the Slayer v-neck and jeans Gareth helped him choose. Tables are moved, lights are set up, and a tent with portable stereo waits for them beyond the tree line. 

“Don’t worry, it’s just so we have privacy. I wouldn’t murder you here. That’d be way too obvious.” Eddie turns to Steve and smirks with narrow eyes and pursed lips. 

Steve smiles and scoffs. “Not to ruin your reputation or whatever, but I’ve seen you pretend to be Dracula while introducing kindergarteners to a bat. You’re not all that scary.” Steve laughs, sliding his hand into Eddie’s. It still surprises him, even now, how well they slot together. 

“Well, now it’s a challenge. You’ve just created a monster.” Eddie teases, bumping their shoulders together as he pulls Steve forward onto the trail with him. 

It’s dusk. A liminal, fleeting moment that Eddie relishes in whenever given the chance. Bats are at their most visible at dusk, coming out to search for food when the sun is low enough to hunt but still bright enough for weak human eyes to watch as they swoop through the sky. Life stirs during the day. Birds tweet and the sun gleams, flowers bloom with a ferocity that’s nearly audible, but there’s a shift at dusk. Spring evenings offer peace, and Eddie wants to share a little bit of that paradise with Steve.

“So, are you gonna tell me what we’re doing, or…?” Steve prods, his heart fluttering in his chest. All excitement, all hope, all joy. It’s intolerable and wonderful in the same beat. 

“Remember that clearing? Where we fingerpainted with the tiny humans and I absolutely enchanted you with my nerdom?” Eddie asks, pulling a leaf off a tree for no reason with the hand not holding Steve’s. 

Steve wrinkles his nose and shakes his head, full of affection. He’s not wrong, but why does he have to word it like that?

“Of course I do, but you don’t have to say it like, you dork.” 

“I do have to say it like that, actually. And well,” Eddie takes a quiet breath and rounds the corner to the clearing. “This is what we’re doing.” 

read the conclusion of the answers are all inside of this here or, start from the beginning