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tickle-bugs · 2 years

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Summer Lovin’

Summary: A hot summer’s day in Hawkins leaves Steve with time to kill. Fortunately, Eddie is the most distracting human being on the face of the Earth. Romantic Steddie. (Now feels like a good time to remind everyone I have seen ZERO episodes of stranger things and am therefore not liable for ooc content thank u enjoy)

Update: There’s a loose sequel now! Check out I’m So Down here :)

Hawkins is hot. The summertime air is insufferable and thick with humidity. Even with the car’s AC blasting, the sun is trying its damndest to toast every visible inch of its driver. Not to mention the bugs. Steve’s one mosquito bite away from burning the place down.

Thankfully getting rid of Dustin and co. for the afternoon dropped the interior temperature of the car, like, twenty degrees. Bad news is, he has to pick them up in a few hours and he’s not looking forward to it.

Eddie’s the last one to debark from Harrington’s Wild Ride as they rumble up outside his trailer. He leans his forearms on the passenger door until Steve rolls down the window.

“Wanna hang out?” Eddie sticks his head into the car window to siphon some AC. He’s still wearing his jacket like an idiot, and Steve’s counting down the minutes until the sun claims him and he disintegrates like a vampire.

“And do what, exactly?” Steve flicks away a bead of sweat before it runs.

“TVs busted, so no movies…We could play D&D?” Eddie drums out a beat on the door.

“Munson, I just dropped the kids off—“

“We don’t need ‘em! I’ll show you. C’mon.” Eddie spins on his heel with a smile. Steve sighs and takes his sweet, sweet time getting out of the car.

He’s been trying to avoid unsupervised contact with Eddie. He doesn’t do well with it.

“Welcome to Casa del Munson.” Eddie bumps the trailer door open with his hip and a flourish. A startling and welcome chill rushes over both of them. Steve spots the culprit in the corner—a bucket of ice propped precariously in front of a giant, gently-rattling fan.

“Nice place.” Steve takes it in. A cramped table covered edge-to-edge in board game…stuff—he recognizes the d20s at least—and unopened bags of chips. There’s a beaten-up couch against the wall with a heavy sag on the middle cushion. Bedroom, kitchen, living room, bathroom—comfortably small.

“Thanks.” Eddie cracks open a soda from a nearby cooler and tosses Steve one before he can think to ask. It’s blissfully cold.

It’s here, as Eddie sheds his jacket in the sunlit living room, that Steve is introduced to Eddie’s worst invention, which will ultimately be his undoing.

Eddie’s got a new shirt. Kinda.

Not even Steve knows how many Hellfire Club shirts Eddie owns, but he’s never seen this one. Eddie’s cut the raglan into a t-shirt that hangs loose on his body, but somehow he’s misplaced the entire bottom half of it. Stick and poke tattoos of bats, music notes, guitars and dice litter his skin like doodles in a notebook’s margins.

Steve knows he’s staring. There’s not much he can do but acknowledge it. Staring at Eddie has become a pastime far quicker than Steve’s become ready to admit that he might play for multiple teams. He’s just nice to look at, that’s all. Pretty, even. That’s a normal thing to think.

God, where’s Robin when you need her?

Eddie flits around the table, arranging and tidying the busy array of game components. He takes on a frantic sort of timidness as he scuttles about. Like his brain is running too fast and he doesn’t want Steve to know. At least the manic pacing gives him a reason to stare.

“Normally I’d build a character with you, but you…no use killing that kinda time. I’ll do it for you.” Eddie pulls out one of the folding chairs at the table, ever the gentleman. Steve opens his mouth to protest but Eddie’s already gone. He sits.

He takes his seat behind a giant partition—a Dungeon Master’s screen—and peeks at Steve over it. Every once and a while his head completely disappears, save for a few curls, as he mutters fervently to himself.

“Thought you needed a group to play. Isn’t that the point?” Steve finishes his soda and crushes the can between his palms.

“Yes, but you don’t have to. It’s about the experience. I’ve got plenty of beginner’s modules anyway.” Eddie smiles at him over the DM screen and disappears again. Steve wrinkles his nose at ‘beginner’, his ego rearing its head, but he doesn’t have it in him to squabble quite yet. Dice clatter against the table and Steve can hear a pencil fighting for its life over there, but all he can make out are those curls.

After a few moments of grumbling, page flipping, and pencil scratching, Eddie pops up from his chair and hums a triumphant, obnoxious fanfare.

“I dub thee Steve, a fighter and the bravest of adventurers.” Eddie flaps the paper around like a flag in the wind before handing it over. There’s…a startling amount of numbers on the character sheet and he doesn’t understand all of them, but that’s not what catches his eye.

Eddie’s doodled in red ink all over the paper. Swords, dice, dragons, and bags of gold--a patchwork not unlike his torso. There’s even a tiny drawing of what Steve assumes is himself in armor, if the hair and the sparkles are anything to go by. Steve hopes he’s able to reign in his expression from ‘infatuated dope’ to ‘coolly neutral’ because if not, Robin will smell a chance to tease him from miles away and break down the door.

“Cool.” He looks up. Eddie’s gazing at him intently, like he’s waiting for approval, and the moment is vanishes before Steve can do more than furrow his brow.

“Here. You can borrow some of my dice.” Eddie palms him a set of red, white, and blue dice that vaguely reminds Steve of his Scoops uniform. That makes him smile more than it should. Fuck, he’s gone soft.

“Ready?” Eddie balances a d20 on his finger for a split second, trying to be cool, and drops it.

“As I’ll ever be,” Steve chuckles.

“Awesome. I’ll explain as we go, so don’t sweat it if you don’t get it right away. Our adventure begins in the streets of Melore…” Eddie sweeps his hands over the table as he pulls both of them into the story flourishing within the pages of his mind.

D&D is…fun. Really fun. Like a video game, but he’s in it. Eddie’s world is rich and whimsical, and he often breaks his dramatic Dungeon Master character to congratulate Steve on his exploits. He conquers beast after beast at Eddie’s behest, as mercenary work for the town, and starts to delve deeper into the mystery woven here. Something about the alderman’s daughter and the sudden uprising of monsters seems off and it’s bothering him so deeply.

Though the greatest challenge that the legendary Steve had yet to face, apparently, is going fucking shopping. All the merchants in town can’t stand him for some reason, despite only having helped their businesses by making Melore safer. He’s bickered his way down the list to the last vendor, a very attractive elf with an even more attractive array of healing potions.

“Look here, pretty boy, my prices are my prices. Unless you can persuade me—“ a more obvious hint has never been delivered— “Everything goes for ticket price.” Eddie’s come fully around the table as he has repeatedly during the adventure, bleeding the fantasy into the air all around them. Right now, as he leans into Steve’s personal space, he can’t help but feel he’s really staring this…startlingly flirty shopkeep in the eye. He starts to sweat.

“Persuade you, huh?” Steve stands slowly. His hands are definitely shaking.

“Correct. You’re easy on the eyes, but you don’t seem much for conversation.” Eddie crosses his arms, heavy in character. Steve wonders how much of this is Eddie messing with him and how much of it is shit luck.

He is, in fact, much for conversation. His character’s hesitance is all Steve’s own, but his sheet has a +3 to charisma and he’s gathered that that’s good.

He glides into Eddie’s personal space and puts the world’s most awkward hand on his shoulder, somewhere between consoling and convincing. Not the best start.

“Are we making out or are we rolling persuasion?” Eddie’s brow raises, a cheeky grin dancing upon his face. Yep, definitely Eddie messing with him.

“Yeah, yeah I’m rolling. Don’t cream your pants,” Steve mumbles, turning around to roll. He hopes he doesn’t look as red as he feels.

Natural 1. Shit.

“Y’know in some circles, a lack of social skills can make someone charming.” Steve gives his best smile.

“Really? I’ll note that next time I meet someone charming.” Eddie rolls his eyes.

Steve scowls and squeezes Eddie’s side without thinking. It’s something he does to Robin or the kids when they’re teasing and he can’t think of a quip to fire back, not even conscious, and he probably wouldn’t have done it if he had thought about it—

Eddie yelps and the adventure in Melore shatters. The trailer goes quiet, save for the fan still rattling away in the corner.

“Oh? Doth mine ears deceiveth me or whatever, or did you just shriek?” Steve narrows his eyes. From head to toe, Eddie turns a lovely shade of pink.

“No. Uh-uh. Nope. Your ears are totally deceiving you.” He starts backing away, hands outstretched. His rings glint in the light.

Steve makes the conscious choice to toss his dignity in the garbage. Eddie’s smile is higher up on his priority list.

“Hmm, I dunno. My, uh, perception is pretty high.” Steve clicks his tongue and sidles closer, one slow step at a time. Eddie hits the wall much faster than he thought he would, if the deer-in-headlights look is anything to go by. He hides a nervous grin behind his hair and weighs his options.

He makes a break for it. Steve catches him in his arms as easily as breathing.

“Woah! Where do you think you’re going?” Steve’s fingers alight upon Eddie’s stomach and he crumples into the wall. His giggles bounce in time with his curls as he scrambles up onto his toes, as if he can crawl onto the ceiling and disappear.

“You suck!” As he curls in on himself, so do his snickers. He tries to block the skin he can with his elbows, but Steve keeps finding the holes in his armor.

“Rude,” Steve scoffs, working one finger into a soft spot just beneath his ribs. Eddie squeals and grabs Steve’s wrists. A wave of bargaining and cursing tumbles from his lips, but it all gives way to high-pitched, frantic, adorable laughter.

Adorable. Hm, that’s new.

“S-Steve!” Eddie sounds like he might giggle himself into orbit. He tosses his head back into the wall and snorts. He can’t seem to decide whether his hands should cover his face or try to stop Steve, and watching him play ‘Heads, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes’ with himself is beyond entertaining. Steve decides then and there that he only ever wants to hear his name like this, floating out among Eddie’s infectious laughter in the light of the setting sun.

“What’s up, Munson?” Steve smirks, prodding into Eddie’s stomach. He hits a spot just above a tattoo and Eddie jumps straight into the air, like he’s gonna climb Steve to get away from, well, Steve.

“The game!” Eddie manages, his voice finding every possible octave. The snort makes a triumphant return as Steve occupies himself with gently kneading at Eddie’s bare waist.

“Relax, it’s not going anywhere,” He hums.

He’s not expecting Eddie to go fucking boneless in his arms at the next squeeze, and the extra weight sends him colliding into the arm of the couch. He folds backwards as the world tilts and he’s suddenly very grateful they started tussling near the couch of all places.

“Woah, going down!” Steve laughs, bouncing off the cushions. Eddie topples onto him, a heap of frizzy curls and fading laughter. They lay there for a moment, relishing in consequenceless touch with only the last whispers of the sun as a witness. Eddie pushes himself up onto his hands and hovers over Steve, his face beyond flushed, and his lips start to quirk into that wild, mischievous grin that he gets when he’s about to say something ridiculous.

Well, that won’t do.

Steve finds a spot at the back of Eddie’s ribs that makes his elbows give out from under him. Steve lets out an ‘oof’ as Eddie’s body knocks the wind out of his lungs, but soon enough his fingers find a comfortable home in the divots on Eddie’s back. He immediately kicks up into an bouncy bout of belly-laughter, like glitter twirling in the air. There, that’s better.

“Ah shihihit!” Eddie rolls and wedges himself against the back of the couch, hands scrunched before him with T-Rex range of motion. Unbothered, Steve pinches at the hipbones that Eddie’s so graciously left uncovered. He cackles and tries to bring his knees to his chest, but there isn’t enough room.

“Ooh, must be bad. Let me check.” Steve mock-hisses in sympathy and dives back in for more.

“N-Not there, dohohon’t!” Eddie shrieks his first words of protest through all of this. Steve instantly slows his fingers.

“Gimme like, one good reason why I shouldn’t.” He searches and listens for any discomfort, any genuine distress, but all he gets is a gleaming smile and dimples and distractingly bright eyes—

“It tickles, you asshole!” Eddie snickers, loosely grabbing at Steve’s wrists. His laughter has a habit of snowballing on him, Steve’s noticed, like his lungs aren’t big enough to contain it all.

“I said gimme a reason why I shouldn’t, dipshit. Now you’re just egging me on.” Steve manages to reach for Eddie’s hip and ribs at the same time and pulls forth the funniest fucking noise he’s ever heard another man make, somewhere between a cackle and a snort, and Steve absolutely loses it.

“G-Goddamnit Harrington!” Eddie giggles like a maniac directly into Steve’s neck, snuggling closer like it’s going to protect him, and Steve doesn’t realize how much his guard has fallen until he’s barking out a startled laugh and shoving Eddie’s face away. They both blink at each other. Twin smiles grow on their faces, though Steve’s is far more nervous.

“We can—“

“Talk about this? I think the fuck not.” Eddie grins, wiggling his long, calloused fingers just above Steve’s sides. Before he can blink, before he can breathe, Eddie is grinning wildly down at him like a kid on Christmas.

“Any last words? Bonus points if it’s begging for your life.” Eddie makes a show of cracking his fingers, rings and all. Steve clenches his jaw and grabs for the dignity that he tossed earlier, but then Eddie’s fingers are plucking some invisible melody upon his sides like the neck of his guitar and he’s utterly gone.

In hindsight, he might’ve brought this upon himself. Arguably. Possibly.

He flips Eddie off with both hands, going down swinging, and Eddie gasps in mock offense. He shoves his hands under Steve’s arms and the squeakiest cackle bursts from his lips, then another, then another, until he’s folding into Eddie’s grip.

“F-Fuck you!” Steve’s forehead knocks into Eddie’s chest and he stays there, hiding his face. Even when Eddie gets a hold of his knee—Christ, that’s terrible—he stays the course.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie grins most wickedly. A burst of butterflies in Steve’s stomach pushes him dangerously towards giggling. He can’t even get another threat out and hearing his own laughter makes him laugh more. So, he brings back a classic. He flips Eddie off again and stands his ground.

Curious, deft fingers seeking the skin behind his ears quickly crumble that warrior spirit, though.

“Fuckin’ adorable.” Eddie laughs above him, gently scritching at the shell of Steve’s ears. Steve screeches bloody murder in response.

Somewhere between breathless cursing and pleading for his life, Eddie remembers mercy. The revenge is nowhere near proportional to the original crime but Steve isn’t complaining. He feels like he’ll explode if Eddie’s hands find their way under his arms again. Or, if he keeps looking at him like that.

Eddie gets a wistful look about him, that strange timidness returning. He awkwardly pats Steve’s chest and goes to swivel off the couch, but Steve’s hand on his bicep stops him.

“Hey Eddie?” Steve swallows. His heart thunders in his ears. He wants to believe he isn’t still giggling, but he knows it’s useless.

“Yeah?” Eddie’s breath audibly catches. He clears his throat.

“Is it cool if I kiss you?” Steve cautiously brings his hands to hover on either side of Eddie’s face. Not touching. But they could.

“Oh, please do.” Eddie beams at him, the last shreds of sunlight blooming warmth into those big brown eyes, and leans in to close the distance. Steve smiles into the kiss. He feels airy, like bubbles on the wind, like nothing could come between the two of them in the quiet of the trailer.

Eddie immediately ruins it, of course, by vibrating his hand into Steve’s stomach, sending them both toppling off the couch and into a chase so remarkably asinine for the size of the trailer. It keeps them occupied until Dustin calls though, and that’s all either of them can ask for.

#my fics #stranger things #steveddie #steddie #ticklish!steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #ticklish!eddie munson #no fr i haven't seen a single episode so this is a real shot in the dark #but this was fun to write and broke me outta my funk so i hope y'all enjoy it!!!#also i could talk for HOURS about Eddie's DM style since im a DM myself. i dont care what the show says thats my blorbo your honor #idk why i like him so much hes just a freak (affectionate)

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