#older!steddie

[bettyfrommars]

Everlong

part 1: hello, I've waited here for you

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

18+Only, smut, older!eddie, older!steve, unprotected anal sex, first time experience, oral m/m, anal play, rimming, fingering, no Vecna, deep feelings, mention of porn and of an orgy, creampie, but it's also very fluffy, Eddie has had a crush on his best friend for a long time. wc: 5.9k

It's the mid-late 90's in Hawkins, Eddie and Steve are both in their 30's, and have recently moved back after several life upsets. Eddie has his own trailer across town, and that is where he offers to let Steve stay for a week, and old feelings resurface.

author's note: There will be 2 parts to this. I fully intended to work on something Halloween themed, but then the inspiration for this happened. Just goes to show how my mind doesn't like to be told what to do.

"If everything could ever be this real forever If anything could ever be this good again The only thing I'll ever ask of you You've got to promise not to stop when I say when..."

-- Everlong, Foo Fighters

Steve’s week-long stay with Eddie was half over, and Eddie felt that reality sink his heart as he opened the door to his trailer.

“Honey, I’m home,” he announced with a spring in his step.

He lived in a trailer park across town now, it was double wide, and felt like a luxury after all of those years he spent crowding in with Wayne.  He missed the old man though and went over to Forest Hills every couple of days to visit. 

He never thought he’d be back in Hawkins a decade after high school, but he’d dropped everything to move to Indianapolis for a girl he was seeing, and then got his heart shattered a year later. 

Coming back to his hometown felt a bit like failure, but it also felt safe. He still had good friends there, and he didn’t want to be alone anymore.  Working as a welder at the local fabrication shop was not his dream job, but it paid the bills, and he was comfortable. He even got to play a show with his old band every now and then.  

He put the Chinese take out on the island between the kitchen and the living room and called Steve’s name again.  But then he caught sight of the piece of paper on the coffee table:

 “Went for a run. BRB.”

The note made Eddie grin and feel all goofy, like somehow that small courtesy was such a huge act of love.  He hadn’t been treated very well by his partners over the years, and that revelation stung him in moments like that.

Steve had also done the dishes, and the living room was spotless and organized.  The ashtray on the coffee table had been dumped out and cleaned, all of the Guitar World magazines stacked neatly.  When he opened the fridge to grab a beer, he found that they were all lined up in a row.  Eddie kept telling him he didn’t have to do any of that, but Steve said that if he didn’t stay busy, he’d go crazy, and Eddie respected it.  

Steve Harrington and Eddie had remained best friends, even through the years and the distance and the failed relationships.  It just so happened that Steve was at the tail end of a very messy divorce, and needed a place to crash now that he was back from Chicago.  His ex-wife had managed to take him for every penny he had, so Eddie was quick to offer his place after he joked about having to sleep in his car (it wasn’t a joke).

Eddie played the message blinking on his machine to find that it was from Robin.  She’d also moved back to Hawkins recently, but she worked 50 hours a week, had two roommates, and was dating a woman from another town, so they didn’t get to see each other as much as they’d like.  The three of them had a bowling date set for that coming weekend, and it gave Eddie the warm fuzzies to think about them all being back together again.

Eddie was in the shower with his dick in his hand, stroking it, when Steve burst in.  “Hey man,” the intruder grabbed something from the medicine cabinet, and then braced his hands on 

the sink before splashing some water on his face. “God damn, I am out of shape.  That was rough.”  Steve coughed a few times and then wiped his face on the nearby towel.

He couldn’t see Eddie through the dark blue curtain, but had he heard him? There was a possibility that Eddie had been talking to himself, thinking about Steve, and grunting a little as he got himself hard.

“Food smells good,” Steve added as he walked back out into the hall, but left the door wide open. “I’m starving.”

Nah, he hadn’t heard anything.

“I got those weird noodles you like,” Eddie shouted over the sound of the shower.  “And sweet and sour chicken.”  Steve didn’t have to tell Eddie what he wanted from the restaurant down the street; Eddie always paid attention to those things.  

“Hey, leave me some hot water,” Steve was in the doorway again.  “Or should I just get in there with you? Save some resources?” 

“Not unless you want to soap my balls, Harrington,” and then Eddie threw his fist against the curtain.  “Get out, and shut the fucking door, you creep.”

—-------

After dinner and a beer on the porch, the boys retired to their respective positions on the couch while Eddie rolled a joint.  The movie Ghostbusters was on TV, but it was interrupted by a string of commercials, and Steve tucked his foot under him on the opposite end of the couch while he watched Eddie lick the paper.

“Okay if I have a drag?” Steve asked, resting his cheek on his knuckles.

Eddie snapped a look at him and raised his eyebrows.  “Oh, hell yes.  You think you can handle it?” The metalhead sat back, rolling the piece between his fingers, and then he wet one end and grabbed his lighter.  

“I can handle whatever you can handle, Munson.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Harrington,” Eddie smirked and took a stiff inhale before passing it to his friend.  

Steve’s ex-wife had insisted on a very straight-edge lifestyle, and he hadn’t had a whiff of weed in almost 3 years, so he took a cautious pull.

And then he coughed, and banged his chest, and spittle flew from his wet lips. 

“Damn, alright,” Eddie hummed.  “I take it back, you are a badass.”

“Shit,” Steve could feel the drug seeping into his bloodstream and his senses.  “Feels good. Feels kinda…tingly.”

“Ahh if only to have your tolerance again,” Eddie mused, taking another long drag. The show came back on, and the Ghostbusters were checking out the slime and stacks of books in the library.  

They watched a few minutes of the movie while Eddie continued to smoke.  He offered it to Steve again, but he passed.  

“Hey, do you remember that one time we watched a porno together?” Steve just blurted it out from nowhere, completely unprompted.

Still, Eddie knew exactly which porn he was talking about, and the exact night that it happened.

“I think so,” Eddie tapped his ash out. “Maybe.  Were we at my old place?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, keeping his eyes on the screen.  “It was the summer you graduated, and Wayne was at work and you were like ‘hey Steve, wanna watch some vampire ass fucking?”

Eddie scoffed.  “Shut up, that is not what I said.”

“Well,” Steve was clearly exaggerating, chuckling to himself.  “That’s what they were doing.”

The movie was called, “Bloodsucking Orgy” and it was a bisexual vampire porn.  But the actors were wearing fake, plastic teeth, and the cheap makeup dripped off of their faces as they fucked, but it was some of the hottest shit Eddie had ever seen at the time.  

What Steve didn’t tell him was that he had to pull over to jerk off in his car that night, not only thinking about the raw breeding on film, but the way Eddie had palmed himself over his jeans, clearly aroused.  That was the first night, all those years ago, when Steve had first questioned his sexuality.  

“I had that vhs with me for a long time,” Eddie held in a tight breath and then released a large plume of smoke. “It was under my bed in a box for years, but I think my ex took it.”

“Trevor?” Steve asked, thinking of the last boyfriend that Eddie had introduced to him that he didn’t like.  Come to think of it, he hadn’t approved of any guy or girl Eddie had dated in a long while; In Steve’s mind, no one was good enough for his best friend.  

“Nah,” Eddie lowered his chin, shyly.  “I only dated him for like, a week. It was barely a handjob.  I’m talking about Jake, the one with the mohawk.”

“The guy who juggled bowling pins at the fair?” Steve rolled his eyes.  “I swear, you know how to pick them, Munson.”

Eddie squinted across the couch at his friend as another commercial came on.  Maybe the weed was a little stronger that night but, was Steve…jealous?

Steve stole a long glance at Eddie when he got up to use the bathroom, taking in the curve of his muscles under the thin white Hanes of his t-shirt and the arc of his resting cock under his sweats.  

They watched a bit more of the movie, speaking the lines to the parts they knew by heart. 

“I’m going to miss this when you go,” Eddie muttered.

Steve’s apartment would be ready by Monday, and Eddie was dreading the lonely nights when Steve wasn’t there on the couch with him.  

“I’ll be just down the road, man,” Steve assured, taking a sip of his beer.  “I thought you’d be glad to get me out of your hair, so you could get back to your bachelor pad life.”

Eddie figured Steve was just confused, so he decided to jog his memory.  “I haven’t so much as gone on a date with anyone in almost a year.  This is hardly a rockin’ bachelor pad.”

For some reason, this gave Steve a sense of relief.

Ghostbusters ended and Eddie told Steve to wait right where he was, as if he’d go anywhere, since the couch was also his bed.  

When Eddie sauntered back from the dark hallway, he was carrying two black, clamshell vhs covers.  They were blank on the outside, with no words on the spine, and Steve knew exactly what they were, even from far away.

“Let me guess,” he raised his eyebrow.  “Bloodsucking Orgy Part 2?”

Eddie chuckled. “Close! No, but they are just as bad.”

Steve adjusted himself in a way that made Eddie look over his shoulder as he put the tape in the vcr.  “You okay with this? I figured…for old time’s sake?”

“Sure, yeah, why not?” Steve ran his fingers through his hair a few times and adjusted the collar of his tee because suddenly he felt very hot. 

To say that Eddie was testing Steve would be wrong.  Eddie had no idea that the events in Bloodsucking Orgy had been a bit of a sexual awakening for his friend.  

The actions in the movie would turn Eddie on, sure, but he could control himself for a few minutes if it meant being able to get a laugh at the way Steve’s face twisted up at the ridiculousness of it all.

The credits came on to let you know that this was a “Two Dicks, One Hole Production” and the boys clapped.

There was about 3 minutes of what you’d call “plot” where a bunch of zombies stormed inside this woman’s house while she was having a tupperware party, and then they were suddenly all compelled to have sex.

“Look out, Scorsese,” Steve bubbled a laugh into the palm of his hand.  

Eddie clucked his tongue. “No one appreciates good cinema these days.”

One zombie had its head between a woman’s legs on the table while one of her friends squatted down on her face and rode her tongue.

Some of the husbands came by to rescue their wives, but then they ended up getting dicked down as well.  It was all purely entertaining at first, but all of a sudden, Steve felt his cock twitch.  He palmed himself over his boxers, and looked over to find that Eddie was doing the same thing.

Eddie glanced over and caught Steve staring at him while he touched himself and suddenly, he wasn’t at all interested in the movie anymore.

“Why does it--” Steve started, swallowing hard. "Why does it always look like it feels so good?"

“What?” Eddie rested his head on the back of the couch.  “Being attacked by a flesh-eating zombie?”

“No,” Steve nibbled at his lip.  “When they put it…in their ass…like that.  The dudes I mean.”

Eddie couldn’t even hear the sound from the tv anymore, his ears were ringing.  “Because it does feel good, sometimes, when the right cock is in your ass.”

Steve’s breath hitched at the tone of Eddie’s voice. “You like the feel of it, don’t you?”

Eddie couldn't help himself; he cupped his balls under the blanket. “Yeah, um, I do.”

“I’ve wondered about it,” Steve admitted in a whisper, sliding a hand down slowly to palm himself over his jeans.  He was getting hard and needed the friction. “I've wondered what it would feel like. I think I might like it.”

“You do?” Eddie’s voice was low.  

Was this really happening? Was Steve just shooting the shit? Or was he trying to throw clues down? If so, how should he handle it? He’d masturbated to this scenario so many times in his life but had no idea how he would make his move in real time.  

Steve hadn't planned this. He'd had thoughts about Eddie before, sure, but he never imagined he'd do anything about it while he was staying at his place. How embarrassing would it be if his friend rejected him? He had to play it cool so he could make it out like he was kidding if that happened.

With a surge of adrenaline, Steve scooted closer, and his friend met him in the middle of the couch.  

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Steve’s eyes searched the other pair of chocolate orbs, and they were so close now, Eddie’s pulse was skyrocketing.  “I don’t want this to make anything weird between us.”

“I’m fine with it if you are,” Eddie mumbled.  There was a voice in his head screaming at him not to miss his chance. He pinched the front of Steve’s shirt.  “We could experiment, if you want? What are best friends for?”

Eddie knew there was a platonic best friend line in the sand that was about to be crossed, and it could never be uncrossed, but the way Steve was looking at him with those puppy dog eyes made him not care one single goddamn bit.  

He’d do anything for Steve. Even if it meant he was just another “experimental experience” for a straight guy. 

Steve leaned in for a kiss, and as much as he wanted it, Eddie pulled his head back.

“Say it,” Eddie muttered.

Steve squeezed himself through his boxers and frowned, confused.  “Say what?”

Eddie moved in close again, brushing Steve’s lips with his.  “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Steve choked on the words at first, and then he told Eddie what he needed to hear.

Their mouths met in a frenzy of clumsy tongues and cries, and then they made their way to the bedroom, stripping clothes off as they went.  

It wasn’t long before Eddie was naked next to Steve on the bed, pushing a lubed finger inside him one knuckle at a time.  “Is that okay?” He kissed the corner of Steve’s mouth. His friend’s eyes were closed, but Eddie’s were wide open—he didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Yes—fuck,” Steve squirmed, but his hips were moving down, needing Eddie deeper.  He gripped Eddie’s back with one hand, and the other came up to fist his own length where it throbbed.

Eddie moved his head down, his hair dragging along his companion's chest. “Let me,” he mumbled.  Steve held it at the base so that the metalhead could take the swollen, leaking tip into his mouth. Now he was twirling his tongue around the head and fucking his finger inside of his best friend.  He savored the taste of the salty tang, making lewd noises as he sucked and swallowed.

Eddie’s mouth was magic, and Steve was hiccupping erotic sighs.  “Tell me again, why did we wait this long?” He chuckled, and Eddie smiled around the gift in his mouth, both of them caught in mutual disbelief and bliss.

“You feel that?” Eddie came up for air long enough to ask, pupils blown, rubbing deep onto Steve’s prostate with purpose.

“Yeah, I feel it,” Steve shuddered.  He bent his knees up and placed his feet on the mattress so that he could arch his pelvis up to give better access.  “I think...I think I need more,” he breathed.

Eddie chanced a look up at his friend: his head was back, throat exposed, and–oh shit— he loved seeing what he was doing to him.  The way that he was the one giving Steve Harrington this much pleasure, to be the one to make him unravel.  

The second finger went in, stretching him, and Steve’s muscle squeezed around Eddie’s digits so tight, it made his cock ache to take their place.  The phalange in question was tucked against Steve’s hip, aching, and he rutted it there a few times, leaving a snail trail of juice on his partner’s skin.

“Move this leg,” Eddie advised, and Steve licked his lips, watching every move, hoping to god that he did not stop fucking him.  He was switching positions now, getting in between Steve’s thighs.

Steve used the slick from Eddie’s saliva to work the tip of his cock a few times as his eyes roamed the wash of tattoos over his friend’s sinewy muscles, and the guitar pick necklace that swayed against his chest.  

“Does this feel okay?” Eddie buried the second finger in and scissored them to stretch out Steve’s hole, feeling the resistance throb in his own balls.

Steve winced with a hiss, and Eddie’s hand stilled, but then Steve’s eyes snapped open. “It feels so fucking good, don’t stop.” 

Eddie was quick to lower his head to take over the tending of Steve’s huge member, making his friend moan long and hard.

When he looked down at the top of Eddie’s head, and the way his arm moved in and out between his legs, listening to the soft, wet, sucking sounds, Steve started to have some real feelings.  They were feelings he was afraid to think, let alone say out loud.

“I-I need you inside of me, Eddie,” Steve managed.  “I need you to fuck me right now.”

Eddie rose up, staring into Steve’s eyes as he took his fingers out to put the head of his dripping cock against the slip of Steve’s hole, rubbing it up and down.  “Are you sure?” Eddie mumbled. “I’m not going to last long.”

“Me neither,” Steve blinked a few times, liking the way Eddie bit his bottom lip and searched his face.

Eddie’s heart was about to explode in his chest.  He imagined bits of his heart and cum sprayed everywhere when his strewn body parts were found the next morning.  

After a few moments of working the tip through and moaning at the way his hole sucked him in, Eddie leaned forward and pressed into Steve, spreading him open, letting him give a silent scream into his mouth. Eddie braced his partner’s hips, trembling at the sensation as he clenched around him.

Once he sank all the way in, Eddie intertwined his fingers with Steve’s above his head and began to move.

“The way you’re gripping me—holy shit,” Eddie murmured against his mouth.  “Does that feel okay?”

“It feels…so fucking good,” Steve hushed. “Don’t stop.”

Steve’s bent legs were up now, and Eddie was thrusting against him, deep and hard, unable to hold back the emotions that drove his movements.  Steve’s body bent so that his stomach wrinkled as Eddie found a mouth-watering pace, his guitar pick swinging in the air.

Foreheads pressed together, Eddie said, “wrap your legs around me,” and that’s when it happened; that’s when Steve could feel the coil snap in his stomach as Eddie drove into him with purpose.

Eddie grabbed a handful of Steve’s hair and pulled tight, yanking his head to the side, making him whimper.

“Cum inside me, Eddie—” Steve cried.

Eddie gave a strangled gasp at his words, because he was close, but it didn’t take long to slide one hand between them to find Steve’s leaking tip to help him along. 

“I’m gonna cum in your tight little asshole,” breathless, Eddie was pounding him now, and neither one of them cared if the wet slapping sounds could be heard next door.  

It was all Eddie could do not to declare his love then; to tell Steve that it had always been him, and it would be him forever after.  “I’m so in love with you,” he wanted to say, and the thought alone made his orgasm rise. 

The way Eddie made him feel so full would have been enough, but then his friend’s strong, calloused hand was yanking at his cock and Steve began to convulse under him.  “Oh fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum.  Eddie, I’m cumming!”

First of all, did Steve just call him baby? 

But then there was no time to consider it because there were warm ropes of his release shooting between them, and Steve’s muscle gripped Eddie’s length over and over, milking him.

The way Steve cried out made Eddie’s movements erratic as he emptied himself, scooting closer, and bending his friend more in half to get deeper, to keep pumping with each aching grunt.  

“Shit, you feel amazing,” Eddie cursed as everything got slippery and he could feel his seed leaking out between them.

Once they both came down from their highs, Eddie pulled himself out of Steve and kissed his knee before shimmying off the bed.

“Damn,” Steve looked down at himself, at the spray of jizz that began to pool in his belly button and noticed the sensation of Eddie’s release dripping down his ass.  “I’m a fucking mess.”

“Hold on, I got it,” Eddie returned from the bathroom with a washcloth, brushing hair out of his face, and Steve watched him climb onto the bed to nestle between his thighs again.  His cock was still half-hard, bobbing in the air as if it were already preparing for another round.  

Eddie had the wet rag ready, but then the cum glistening on Steve’s stomach gave him other ideas.  

“Are you giving me all that sweet aftercare now?” Steve scoffed.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows before bending down to lap at Steve’s bellybutton with his tongue.  “You’re my guest.”

The feeling of his friend’s tongue dragging along his sensitive flesh was about to make Steve erect again, and he writhed at the sensation, eventually scooting further away, up against the headboard.  Eddie watched him go, not sure what he’d done wrong, and passed him the washcloth.  

Steve was having a hard time looking at his best friend now.  Maybe because it had been the best orgasm of his life? Maybe because the past hour had made him question everything he thought he knew about himself? 

He didn’t know what to do with the towel when he was done, so he handed it to Eddie, and he tossed it to the ground with a flop.  

Eddie was about to move up next to Steve to kiss him, or at least sit next to him, but instead Steve got up off the bed and bent down to put his boxers on.  

“So, does this mean—” Steve stammered, keeping his back to Eddie.  “Does this mean that I—that I’m a bottom?”

Eddie was about to chuckle as he stretched long on the mattress and put his head in his hand, but then he realized Steve was asking a serious question.  

“Did you enjoy it?” Eddie asked, cautiously.

“Um, yeah,” Steve bent down to pick up his shirt.  “Obviously I did.”

That response elicited a quiver of a smile from Eddie, putting parentheses on either side of his mouth.

Eddie exhaled a long breath and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling.  “It means…whatever you want it to mean.  I’m not one to really care for labels.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve nod, taking in the information.  He went to sit at the edge of the bed, fully clothed now, and Eddie ran a hand down his chest, thinking of his next words.

“We could always try it…the other way,” he said it so nonchalantly, and it made Steve turn his head, curiosity piqued.

“The other way?”

“You know,” now it was Eddie averting his eyes.  “You could fuck next time, if you want.  If you want to try it, I mean.  See if you like it.”

“Next time, huh?” Steve ran a hand up and down his face. “I don’t know, man, this is —kinda blowing my mind right now.”

“I get it,” Eddie could feel a familiar heartache rising in his throat.  “We could just forget this ever happened, if you want.”

There was a heavy silence then, thick and weighty with the fear of the unknown.  

“No, I don’t want that,” Steve whispered.

Eddie lifted his head up.  “You don’t?” His voice cracked, and then he cleared his throat and sat up to brace his elbows behind him.  

Steve stood and put his hands on his hips before turning to his friend again.  He raked his fingers through his hair.  “I want to keep doing this,” he muttered.  “But I don’t know what that means.”

“Hey,” Eddie scooted himself down so that he was sitting close to where Steve was standing, legs off the bed, and looked up at him.  “We’re the only ones allowed to define this…whatever is happening between us. No one else.”  

And the next thing you knew, Steve surprised himself for the second time that night, by going over to stand in front of Eddie.  He brushed a few strands of his outdated bangs off of his forehead and Eddie closed his eyes to bask in the attention.  

But his eyes opened when he felt Steve lower his head and grab onto Eddie’s shoulders.  His mouth was so close now, and their noses slotted together.  “I think I need to kiss you again,” he hushed.

Eddie’s hands went to the hips of Steve’s shorts, making fists in the material; he could feel himself getting hard again already.

“You better fucking do it, then, Harrington,” Eddie mumbled.

Once their lips met, tongues were quick to follow, and then they were crashing into the kiss and Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck.  He had so many questions, and so many concerns about what this would look like to the outside world, to his friends and estranged family.  But, in that moment, nothing mattered more than getting as close to this person he loved as he possibly could.

He wanted to be inside of him.  

Eddie dropped to his knees and took Steve’s boxers with him, making Steve curse once he was back inside Eddie’s warm mouth. 

Eddie pulled back to spit on the head, connecting a string of saliva to his mouth when he looked up to stare into his companions' eyes.  

“You know where I want to put that,” Steve told the man on his knees.

Eddie’s moan was full of yearning.  “I want you to fill me up,” and then he licked down the shaft and spit again until it was soaked.  Eddie sucked his finger and then snaked it back to push the tip into Steve’s clenching muscle while he gave kitten licks to the freshly juiced pre-cum.  

Steve jumped. “Fuck, baby—you’ll make me cum like that,” he barked a laugh.

Eddie’s smile was huge—-holy shit, he was so in love—-but then he stood to full height and grabbed Steve by the throat to kiss him.  “We’ve got all night.”

Steve found his partner's rock-hard length and began to roll back the foreskin with a firm grip.  He had no idea what he was doing but decided to go with whatever felt right.  “Bend over,” Steve told him, taking a fist full of his hair. “Get on the bed.”

Steve’s tone made Eddie clench, and his balls were preparing for duty again.

Steve stepped out of his boxers and took his shirt off, keeping his attention on Eddie’s ass, and the way it was on full display for him now.

“The lube is in the—” Eddie started, but Steve silenced him with a “shush”.

“You’re a big boy, Harrington,” Eddie continued.  “I don’t want to get ripped open toni—-”

But then big hands were spreading his cheeks apart and an eager tongue was dancing around his asshole.  

Eddie pushed his hips back and the tongue dove inside. “Does that feel good?” Steve asked in between licks.  

“Fuck yes,” Eddie breathed.

With that new burst of encouragement, Steve slid his thumb in, making the metalhead throw his head back.  

Steve considered the logistics of it all for a moment, and then: “Can you get on your side?”  

He moved into position without question.  Steve didn’t have the nerve to say it, but he wanted to see Eddie; he wanted to be able to look at his face when he came.  When they were both ready, Eddie rubbed the lube on his friend’s generous length, and then Steve squirted a bit on that pink, puckered spot, and Eddie yelped at the cold sensation.

More low chuckles, more tender laughter.

Eddie watched over his shoulder at the way Steve was concentrating as he lined the tip up.  His best friend was so fucking beautiful, and he hoped to god it wasn’t a dream. Steve straddled Eddie’s bottom leg, while his top bent to the side, twisting at his hip.  

Steve stammered a few curse words when he sank in an inch, halting.  “Oh shit, I had no idea how tight—holy fuck Munson.”

“Fuck, please don’t stop,” Eddie mumbled into the pillow.  

Steve groaned long and hard with each thrust, pushing himself in, taking his time, and then pulling out a bit until his hips were almost flush with Eddie’s ass.

“You like it when I stretch you out, don’t you?” 

Eddie’s jaw went slack, and he reached down to touch himself, rutting into the mattress.

Steve buried himself inside Eddie, spreading his cheeks apart to watch.  “Tell me I’m the only one who fills you up like this.”

“You’re the only one,” Eddie was whimpering now, trembling with lust and love. “I need you to start moving right now, Harrington!”

Steve was snapping his hips then, pounding Eddie just the way he wanted.  The sounds escaping both of them were egging each other on, and Steve held Eddie’s leg up to get a better angle.

“It’s never felt this good,” Steve blurted.  “Look at me.”

Eddie turned his head to meet his partner’s hooded gaze, sweaty hair sticking to his cheek.  What if he said, “I love you”? What then? Because it was right there on the tip of his tongue.  

“I’m so close, Eddie,” Steve’s movements stuttered a bit.  “I need to see you.”

It was only a few more seconds of that intense eye contact before Steve was losing every last bit of himself inside his friend, slapping their skin even harder together as warm wetness filled the space.  Steve’s toes curled on the mattress, and he threw his head back, holding onto Eddie's leg so that he didn’t fall over.  

Being inside Eddie, to share something like that with him, felt so right and so perfect, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

He flipped his partner over so that he was on his back, neglected cock straining against his tattooed stomach, and Steve bent over to put it into his mouth.

“Steve—!” Eddie was already about to blow his load before those soft lips were on him, but now his balls were tightening up close to his body. “I’m so close, I’m gonna—oh fuck!”

Steve nodded, humming on his friend’s swollen length as the salty spill poured over his tongue and he drank it down with eager swallows.  Eddie writhed, shaking as he came.  

They showered together again after that, and Steve found out about Eddie’s insatiable appetite when they jerked each other off one more time before they found sleep.  They were all a tangle of limbs and legs, hot breath against the skin of each other’s throats.

The next two days brought much of the same. They had dinner together when Eddie got home from work and held hands in front of the tv.  Until hand holding turned to touching and it was time for Steve to experiment being inside Eddie from a different angle.  They both lost count of the number of times they came inside of each other.  Well, Steve lost count.  For Eddie, each one was precious and something he cherished.  

On the third day, while the Saturday morning cartoons were on, Eddie’s head was in Steve’s lap while he played with his hair and rubbed his scalp.  Eddie’s eyes were rolling back in his head, and he suddenly understood why cats purr.  It all felt so natural, hidden away there in Eddie’s cozy trailer with the curtains drawn, like the rest of the world didn’t even exist.

But then there came the sound of footsteps bounding up to the porch, and someone tried the door handle before offering a few quick knocks.

“Hey, what’s going on in there?” The woman’s voice exclaimed.  “Open up, this is the police.”

Steve’s eyes bulged and he practically pushed Eddie to the ground, trying to cover himself with the blanket. He was wearing his boxer shorts, but it made him feel very exposed.

Eddie’s hair was a mess when he sat up, and he gave Steve a curious frown.  “What’s wrong with you? It’s just Robin.”

“I know,” Steve took a breath.  “It just startled me, that’s all.”

Eddie threw a pillow in Steve’s face and shouted, “coming!”

“No, no, wait!” Steve lurched up and grabbed his friend's arm, pulling him back down to the couch.  

Eddie gave him a few confused shakes of his head.  “Are you losing it man? You knew she had the day off and might come over.”

“It’s not that,” Steve was whispering.  “I want to see her I just—did you tell her…does she know…about us?”

Eddie’s face sobered.  “When would I have a chance to tell her? I’ve spent every free second with you.”

“Okay good,” Steve’s shoulders sank, showing that he was clearly relieved.  “Let’s keep it between us, alright? I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Anyone…ever?” Eddie was searching his companion’s eyes, hoping to find that same glimmer from the past couple days there, but it was gone. He understood that coming out could be complicated and difficult, and he didn’t think Steve would be shouting it from the hills, but surely Robin could know? They were the three amigos, the best of friends.  If anyone would embrace him for exactly who he was and who he wanted to have sex with, it would be her.  

Maybe he just needed more time, and that was fine, Eddie had plenty of it.  

Robin knocked again, more forceful this time.  “What the hell? I’m growing mold out here.”

Eddie remained still, passing his tongue over his teeth, and thought about what Steve was asking of him.  

“I’m going to put some clothes on,” Steve got to his feet and jogged out of sight, to the bedroom, leaving Eddie to sit there, feeling the weight of being a secret, yet again.  

“Hey!” Steve hissed from the hallway where he struggled to pull his jeans on while Eddie walked to the door.  “Could you light a candle or something? It smells like sex in here.”

Yeah, sure, he’d get right on that.  

Anything for you, King Steve.

-----

Hi! Thank you for reading! Always love hearing from you. Look out for part 2 🧡

[mimixmunson]

Inspired by the lovely @bonitabreezy and I having a conversation about older!Steddie in a nursing home.

I can see them just constantly fucking about, never making life easy for the nurses who work there.

"Hey Steve watch this"

*Eddie smirks and presses the emergency buzzer*

*Nurse runs into the room expecting to see one of them on the floor or something*

"Oops sorry didn't mean to press that"

*Nurse leaves the room with a face like thunder they both erupt into laughter.*

Or Eddie who convinces Steve to ride the metal cart that transports the residents medication to their rooms. He pushes him down the halls until the wheel buckles at the top of the stairs. He peeks through his fingers covering his eyes to see Steve, flat out on the floor, looking like he’s eating the carpet with the cart on top of him.

“That was metal. Pretty sure you did a somersault baby!”

To which Steve tries to lift his head but it feels to heavy for his shoulders and comically flops back to the carpet and groans.

Last but not least, older Eddie who insists he’s still fit enough to attend metal gigs.

Eddie- *in the pit*

Steve- "careful of your god damn back I am NOT carrying you home if you slip a disc again."

Eddie- *Immediately falls on the floor and cracks a rib after the first push*

Steve- *Walks like 5 miles with Eddie on his back like a koala*

Oh that boy fucking MILKS it until he’s physically unable to get any more sympathy for it.

Eddie in his whiniest voice- "Stevie: ( carry me.”

Steve- "Fine but as long as you stop calling it 'uppies' you're a grown man"

[coffeecrows]

“On November 18, 2003, the Massachusetts Supreme Court found the state's ban on same-sex marriage unconstitutional, ruling that the state could not deny the protections, benefits and obligations conferred by civil marriage to two individuals of the same sex who wish to marry, though this would not officially come to play until May 17, 2004, where Massachusetts became the first U.S. state and the sixth jurisdiction in the world to legalize same-sex* marriage.

On May 22nd, two men take a drive.

OR: Steve and Eddie have been together ever since 86’ and Steve decides to plan a spontaneous road trip. Without Eddie’s knowledge. This can only go well.”

———

first fic of (hopefully) many! i hope you guys enjoy older! steddie content

[2jihiir0]

“Make it quick… baby’s sleeping..”

🚬🥃🖤⛓️

Older scruffier trailer trash Eddie that takes care of younger Steve while running some illegal businesses. I saw the new Hoard trailer and this sort of happened ?? My brain has been melting ever since.

Anyways enjoy loves~

[habken]

steddie sketches

[bleedingoptimism]

It’s a little after eleven when Eddie finally manages to get Tarja to bed. It’s hard for her without her plushie. And really, Eddie is very thankful having a hyper-fixation with her toy seems to be the only ‘consequence’ of having divorced parents Tarja seems to have right now. He always worries if having two homes and constantly moving between them is good for her or not. Especially with Tommy being Tarja’s other dad, but against all odds, he’s good to her. So their kid is doing just fine. She’s happy. And if she’s happy, Eddie is happy.

He’s getting ready to open a beer and relax when there’s a knock on the door. He smiles, assuming is Steve bringing Toothless over and almost knocks his beer to the floor when he opens the door.

Steve looks… well he looks amazing, dressed to the nines. Must’ve been date night. But his eyes are red and puffy, his face covered in dark blotches, and his lips are swollen like he’s been biting them too much.

He’s hugging Toothless to his chest and he smiles at Eddie when he sees him, but he looks so sad it breaks his heart.

Eddie throws the beer behind him, sure it will land on the couch and cradles Steve’s face between his hands, “What did that asshole do?

Steve leans into his touch and shuts his eyes for a moment before sighing and stepping away from him, walking inside and sitting on the couch still holding Toothless like a lifeline. 

“Nothing, he was just-” Steve shakes his head and chuckles darkly, “He’s just so mean,” 

Eddie drops to his knees in front of him and dips his head to look Steve in the eye just like he did that day in the park.

“Break up with him,” he says.

“I can’t.”

“Tommy doesn't deserve you, Steve. You are worth so much more than what that asshole makes you feel. You deserve better. More. Everything,” Eddie pleads, placing his hands on Steve’s knees and squeezing, “If it’s because of Tarja, we’ll figure something out, ok? Lots of people keep in contact with their parent’s significant other after they break up” He rushes, the speech he didn't have quite prepared last week coming out of him in a single breath, “We are friends, right? So you can still visit and see her. Visit me. You don’t have to stop being a part of our lives.” 

Steve is staring at him right now like Eddie just gifted him the moon and he’s so beautiful it’s kind of hard for Eddie to keep eye contact, but he squeezes Steve’s knees again to ground himself and does. Steve needs to know he’s very serious about this. About him.

Eyes shining, Steve takes a deep breath and nods slowly, a tear falling down his cheek that Eddie follows with his eyes and watches until it hides under Steve’s v-neck shirt.

“Hey, even I didn’t put up with Tommy's shit for Tarja’s sake and I birthed her,” he jokes awkwardly, trying to make him laugh and feels like doing a little victory dance when Steve snorts cutely,

“Okay,” he hiccups.

“Yeah?” Eddie smiles back at him, relieved.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “Fuck Tommy.” And drops back on the couch, looking exhausted, “Can I stay here tonight?” he asks in a whisper, like he’s afraid Eddie will say no. As if.

“Yeah, of course,” Is what he answers, and has half a mind to invite him into his bed but knows it’s a terrible idea. So he lends Steve his favorite flannel pajamas and sets blankets and a pillow on the couch and they say their goodnights.

And if he does a little dance when he closes the door to his room, no one is there to see.

In the morning, Steve stays for breakfast. And attempts to kill Eddie by making his heart explode, cooking it himself from scratch with Tarja’s help, who is so happy she won’t stop running around the kitchen making Toothless fly and sing about ‘happy family breakfast time’.

It’s actually hard to tell if she’s happier to have her plushie back or that Steve is there. Eddie, on the other hand, knows exactly what he’s happiest about. Death by tenderness. Is that a thing? He amuses himself thinking about a couple csi’s with sunglasses saying it, 

“He died because he witnessed something too cute,”

“Ah yes, death by fondness. I’ve seen it before.”

After, Eddie walks him to the door and Steve smiles sweetly at him, and holds his hand, squeezing it once before letting go, “Well, see you. I guess,” he says bashfully and there’s a moment there, a second where time stops and Eddie thinks he should kiss him. Wants to kiss him, needs to kiss him.

But he doesn’t. Because Steve is still dating Tommy, and just because he said he was going to break up with him doesn’t mean he wants to start something new with Eddie.

Eddie himself called him his friend for the first time last night for christ sake. ‘Fucking chill’ he thinks to himself.

🧸

And then a week goes by without hearing a word from Steve. But Eddie doesn't hold it against him.

At first, he figures he needs time to think but then he starts to wonder if he really is going to break up with Tommy. Four days in, he gets paranoid about it. Maybe Steve got brainwashed into thinking Eddie is bad for him. Maybe Tommy told him Eddie was putting ideas in his head, that he shouldn’t talk to him anymore… With him telling Steve to break up with his boyfriend and all... 

He’s well aware of how manipulative Tommy can be and has seen the way he belittles Steve to keep him around, so he knows it’ll be hard for Steve to actually go through with it.

And he can’t exactly show up at Tommy’s and steal Steve away, no matter how appealing the idea might be. The only thing he can do is just think of Steve, wish him well, and send him strength to do what he needs to do. At the end of the day, it needs to be his decision. His choice.

As Tommy’s week with Tarja approaches he starts getting more and more anxious, wondering if it’ll be Steve or Tommy who picks her up.

When the day finally arrives, and the doorbell rings, Tarja runs to open the door and Eddie peeks his head through the hallway.

“Daddy!” Tarja screams.

“Hey, Tata! You ready?” Tommy says and Eddie steps into the hall to greet him too.

“Not yet!” Tarja chuckles and Tommy smiles at her,

“Okay, go get ready. I’ll wait here,”

Eddie walks to the door and leans on the doorframe, “Hey,”

“Hi. Long time no see,” Tommy says and then adds, “You look great,”

“You don’t,” Eddie answers, because it’s true. He looks like shit. Greasy hair, bags under his eyes, chapped lips, wrinkles on his clothes, “What happened?”

“Steve broke up with me.” 

Eddie’s eyes go wide and he smiles, he doesn’t even try to hide it, “He did?”

“Don’t smile, fucker,” Tommy says but there’s no heat behind it. He knows he deserves it.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, not sorry at all.

“Stop,” Tommy whines because Eddie’s smile is actually getting bigger,

“Sorry,” he repeats and then clears his throat, “Did he tell you why?”

“Because I’m a horrible person,” Tommy groans.

“Hey, the first step is to ad-”

“To admit it, yeah, yeah. I know” Tommy interrupts him, groaning again.

Eddie sighs, and punches Tommy’s shoulder lightly, “Look, Tommy, I’m just going to say this because, well… you are pathetic. You need to do better.” And then he points to his back, to where Tarja’s disappeared to get her stuff, “She’s going to grow up and realize you are an awful person and she’s not going to want you in her life. And I’m not going to dissuade her from it, because I already don’t want you to be in mine, you know that, right?”

Tommy looks at him seriously and then nods once, fast and hard. Like he gets it. Like he agrees and is determined to change. And Eddie hopes for Tarja’s sake he is. But knows, deep in his heart, that either way, she’s going to be fine.

“Also, just a heads up. I’m in love with Steve and I’m going to ask him out,” he adds in a rush when he hears Tarja running up behind him.

“You are shitting me,” Tommy whispers, shocked and clenching his teeth.

Eddie laughs, “Nope,” he says, closing his lips loudly around the P.

“Eddie,” Tommy warns him like he’s waiting for Eddie to say he's joking.

“What? I hear he’s single,” Eddie smirks.

“You motherfuc- Hey Tata!” Gathering Tarja in his arms, Tommy drops the subject but he glares at Eddie as he kisses Tarja’s cheek goodbye and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ as he’s leaving. Eddie closes the door and starts laughing at the look on Tommy’s face.

He needs to call Steve.

He tries a couple of times but he doesn’t pick up and he starts worrying Steve might not actually want to talk to him, and then there’s a knock on the door but Eddie, too preoccupied with his anxiety, opens without looking, thinking Tarja forgot something.

When he doesn't hear her, Eddie looks up from his ‘ignored calls’ screen to see nonother than Steve standing there, looking nervous and like a fucking dream with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. A fucking bouquet of flowers. For him. For Eddie. All different shades of red, because he knows is his favorite color.

Eddie just blinks at him a couple of times and Steve flushes even more and drops the hand holding up the flowers, scratches the back of his neck nervously, “This was stupid, the flowers were fucking stupid. They are stupid. I’m stupid, right?”

A laugh bubbles out of Eddie and he grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and pulls him inside. He closes the door once they are both in and slams Steve against it, crushing their lips together. Steve circles his arms around Eddie and holds him close, instantly returning the kiss with fervor. 

They kiss as if it were fate. They kiss until it's hard to breathe and Eddie pulls away only to kiss him again, and again, and again.

“Not stupid,” he murmurs between kisses and feels Steve’s smile against his lips.

Eventually, Eddie takes a step back and lets Steve into his home properly, “Hi,” he says cheesily.

“Hi,” Steve says back grinning, then he lifts up the bouquet again, which is now completely ruined by him still holding it strongly while they made out like crazy, and his smile drops,

“Shit,” he pouts cutely, god Eddie wants to eat him. He laughs and takes the flowers anyway, putting them in an empty glass bottle, because he doesn’t own a flower vase, because he’s a normal human being. ‘Who the fuck owns a flower vase?’

“Come here,” he says, holding out both hands for Steve to take and follow him.

Steve takes his hands but doesn't move, instead swings them from side to side, “Wait, let's talk,”

Fuck, yeah. They should. That’s a good idea. Fuck. Damn, Steven Whatever-The-Fuck-Is-His-Middle-Name Harrington and his sensible and very logical choice…

Eddie huffs exaggeratedly making Steve chuckle and redirects them to the couch, where they sit still holding hands, “Alas,” he says dramatically, “You are right, we should talk. I actually wanted to ask you out properly, not debauch you the second you walked through the door. Sorry about that” he lies, not sorry at all, again.

Steve blushes and smiles, drawing little circles with his thumbs on Eddie’s hands, “Yeah me too. I wanna do this right. Ask you out. Go on dates. I think we should take this slow,”

Eddie makes a face and groans at that. He doesn't want to take it slow. He wants Steve to move in right now or something. Steve rolls his eyes amused at his interruption and keeps going,

“I came here to ask you out the right way because I want you to know I’m committed. But we should think about how this will affect Tarja… and Tommy too. We should go out a few times, spend some time alone, and I want you to meet my friends and my parents and I want to meet your friends and your uncle too and just do this properly and-”

Eddie interrupts him with a kiss, he can’t take it anymore, he’s been dying to kiss Steve for months now and he’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes Eddie insane, makes him feel like he needs to ruin him, but in a nice way, like with devotion and love.

Steve lets go of his hands to wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist and hoists him until he’s straddling Steve. Eddie leans his elbows on Steve’s shoulders, and buries his hands in his hair, pulling and messing with it.

“Okay but have you considered having hard, hot, wet sex, and then maybe we do what you said?” He asks panting against Steve’s lips and actually feeling how that punches the air out of him.

He hugs Eddie closer to his chest and whines, “Yeah okay, we can do it your way,” and gets up, lifting Eddie with him as if he were weightless. Eddie squawks and laughs all the way to his room.

🧸

They spend the week together, talking, eating, drinking, laughing and fucking. Except it’s more than that because when Eddie is inside Steve, with his tongue, his fingers, or his strap, it feels like more. It feels like love. Like fate.

Steve, still determined to take things slow, doesn’t stay there all the time, going back to Robin’s where he moved back to after breaking up with Tommy. He actually brings her over one day and the three of them spend the afternoon together. Eddie decides they are going to be best friends immediately because Robin is hilarious and merciless. When Steve gets back the next day he kisses Eddie so good and hard his knees almost give out on him and tells him he has Robin’s seal of approval. Something he knows Tommy never got.

When the week passes Eddie says goodbye theatrically as if they were cross-star lovers in a bad soap opera and Steve chuckles and calls him ridiculous but kisses him so passionately that Eddie drags him right back inside and they say goodbye again a few hours later.

They had decided to wait until Eddie talked to Tarja about her feelings over Tommy’s and Steve’s breakup and whether she still wanted Steve around or not before having him over again.

But when Tarja gets back home she’s gloomy and silent. She hugs Eddie in greeting when she arrives and then spends the rest of the day lying face down on the floor and occasionally sighing loudly, obviously trying to make Eddie ask her what’s wrong.

And really, Eddie shouldn't find it as funny as he does, but he thinks about calling Wayne and telling him he gets it now when Wayne used to tell him he had too much personality.

Eventually, he lies on the floor next to her and asks. Tarja looks at him with big sad eyes and says, “I haven't seen Steve in a million years! And Daddy said he is not his boyfriend anymore! So I’ll never see him again and I miss him”

Eddie coos at her, “I’m sorry you miss him little dragon, but you can totally see him again! Would you like me to call him? Since he’s my friend too?” Already trying to strategize on how to tell her they are more than friends.

Tarja lights up and jumps off the floor and onto Eddie, punching the breath out of him, “Yes! Yes! Call Steve! Steve smiles more when he’s with you than he did with daddy anyway. Why don’t you boyfriend him instead?”

Well… that was easy.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “That’s a great idea sweety, go grab my phone,”

Tarja runs and grabs Eddie’s phone off the table and hands it to him, he doesn’t bother getting off the floor so she kneels beside him listening attentively as he dials Steve’s number. 

“Hi, handsome, you talked with Tarja already?” Steve greets him after it rings twice.

“Yeah about that, turns out Tarja talked to me, actually,” he chuckles, “Hi, by the way”

“Hi,” Steve repeats lovingly and laughs, “What do you mean?”

“She had this awesome idea!” he says winking at her and she covers her mouth with her tiny hands to hide her giggles, “That, since you are not with Tommy anymore, you should be my boyfriend instead,” he continues, voice going soft and chuckles when he hears Steve's breathless ‘oh’ on the other side of the line, “Come over?”

“Of course, gimme an hour? I'm with a client” Steve hums and Eddie whispers he’ll give him anything he asks for and hangs up.

An hour later Tarja is still lying on the floor, only now it’s with papers and crayons spread all around her when the doorbell rings. She looks up at Eddie excitedly and he nods at her, “Go on then”

Tarja runs to the door and opens it wide to reveal Steve standing there as beautiful as ever, giving Eddie a deja vu of the first time he saw him.

“Papa Steve!” Tarja yells and jumps up to hug him.

Steve gasps and falls to his knees with her in his arms and looks up at Eddie with shocked wet eyes.

‘So much for taking it slow,’ Eddie thinks with a smirk.

Fin.

☝️first part

☕🥐💕?

[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 4

Shoutout to @bloomingconflagration for the title!!! And a HUGE thank you to everyone who left comments or gave suggestions!! I love you all you amazing, silly humans <3 <3 

There comes a time during a long work shift were your average overworked and underpaid employee starts to think they’re hallucinating. 

In Gareth’s case, it was when Steve Harrington walked through the doors of Palace Arcade, making a beeline right for him. 

“Gareth?” Steve asked, like he was the one out of place. “What are you doing here?” 

As if people just randomly stood behind the counter of retail and entertainment spaces with a nametag on. 

You know, for fun.

With a great deal of restraint, Gareth managed to hold the sass back, instead opting for a far more polite; ‘I work here, Harrington. What are you doing here?” 

Because no matter how much Hellfire had adopted Steve into its fold, Gareth could just not see the guy choosing to spend his free time at the local arcade. 

Not of his own free will, anyway. 

“Pick up duty.” Steve said, proving him right not even a second later. 

“Of what?” Gareth asked, puzzled, right before Steve’s name was shouted in stereo.

A miniature stampede took place as several children proceeded to swarm him like oversized puppies, most of them trying to talk at once. 

“One at a time, we talked about this!” Steve barked, loud enough to be heard over the commotion. “You’re giving me and Gareth here a headache!” 

He waved his hands in a “calm down” gesture, shaking his head and looking at Gareth in exasperation. “Probably giving the people in the video store next door one too, lord.”  

“Wait.” A curly-haired kid said, looking between the two older teens like he was watching the laws of the universe rewrite themselves in front of him. “You know Gary? How?”

“We are not close enough for you to call me Gary.” Gareth said dryly, for what felt like the fifteenth time that day. 

This was a regular battle between him and the kids who haunted the arcade.

(One had overheard Grant call him Gary the last time he was in, and ever since, every single child that graced this fine establishment with Cheeto-dusted fingers and candy-induced sugar rushes had decided to replace his actual name with his nickname.

The fact it clearly frustrated him only egged them on. )

“We go to school together Dustin,” Steve said, as if he were talking to someone particularly dense. 

“Yeah? You go to school with lots of people. You bitch about most of them.” Dustin fired back.”Plus Gary’s a total nerd. I bet you call him names.” 

"Hey, language!" 

Gareth’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at the little fucker. He was definitely going to remember Dustin (and equally going to watch and see what arcade games the younger teen played-- and top the score chart of every single fucking one.

He might be a nerd but he wasn’t gonna take that shit from a middle schooler.) 

“Hate to break it to you brats, but your babysitter here just joined our D&D club.” Gareth replied, if only to finally one-up the little bastards. “Our DM is building him a character as we speak.” 

(Which wasn't even a lie. Eddie was building a character for Steve. The guy just refused to give any input on grounds that he "wasn't going to play anyways." )

Abrupt and sudden silence, as several stunned faces stared at him. 

“Oh goddammit.” Harrington cursed, as the entire herd of children turned on him in unison like some kind of hivemind horror monster. 

“You joined the D&D club,” Dustin said slowly, outraged. “And you let them make you a character sheet, but you won’t play with us!?” 

“What the hell Steve!” The sporty-looking one whined, clearly hurt. “You won’t sit in on our games! You said they were lame!” 

“They are lame.” Steve defended immediately, pushing at sporty-kids head. It was fond though, the kind of gentle shove an elder brother gave to a younger one. It caused the kid's camo banana to fall into his eyes, which he adjusted quickly with a grumble. “Turns out the high school version’s cooler.” 

“He’s lying.” That from the bitchy one, whose arms were crossed over his chest, a glare on his face. “Steve probably paid Gary to say that” 

Gareth had seen that exact same stance on Steve at lunch that day, and wondered if the little asshole knew who he was copying when he did it. 

“Who cares about D&D?” This from the redhead, standing with another girl giggling in her ear. “I’m just amazed Steve has friends.” 

“Really Mayfield?” Steve said, looking almost betrayed. As if he thought she was going to be the one to defend him in this weird little showdown.

The girl leaning on her giggled harder, making Mayfield grin (even if she tried to hide it.)  She whispered something, which the redhead outright laughed at before repeating; “Adult friends even!” 

“Okay.” Steve said, clearly cutting the kids off before they could embarrass him further. “Thank you, unwanted peanut gallery, for all of that lovely commentary. Now go back to playing the games you little shits robbed me of all my quarters for, or we’re leaving.” 

Henderson’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were here to pick us up?” 

“Oh I’m sorry, did Jonathan magically appear behind me in the last five seconds?” Steve turned around pretending to search the parking lot through the windows. “No? Then I guess we’re still waiting. Unless you, Lucas and Max want to leave first.” 

“You’re such an ass.” Dustin huffed, rolling his eyes. “Why aren’t you waiting in the car anyway?” 

“It’s raining, it’s cold, and I thought I’d come in to say hi to my friend.” Steve replied, so quickly it took Gareth a moment to realize what Steve referred to him as. 

He'd gotten the friend title before Eddie. 

His best friend was going to fucking freak. 

“Are you done drilling me or are you going to let Max kick your ass at DigDug again?” 

“Shit!” Henderson cursed, spinning to intercept the redhead as she bent to put a coin in said arcade machine. “Max, you said you’d let me keep my leaderboard score today! Max!” 

“I know you said you watched kids, but this wasn’t exactly what I was imagining.” Gareth said, slumping against the counter.  

(He'd been thinking of Steve watching much younger kids for one, and two, he was starting to get the idea the babysitter thing was used as an insult. 

Gareth knew a big brother vibe when he saw it.) 

Steve gave him a tired look. “Me neither man. Me neither.”

 Then; “You fucking owe me for that D&D comment, they’re never going to shut up about it now.”

Gareth winced. “Sorry. I was trying to help.” 

Steve blew out a breath. “I know. I appreciate the attempt.” 

Which was better than Steve bitching at him for it, not that he’d really ever done that to Gareth. 

The two of them hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to be playful like that with each other, though they had occasionally jumped in on opposing sides to arguments Eddie caused. Gareth figured they’d get there in time, but even with all the progress Steve made, he still had more off days than on. 

It was a fragile line to walk with him. Especially when there wasn’t a single member of Hellfire who wanted to ruin the progress they made. 

(Even if half of them would never admit to it.) 

“Steve?” A voice interrupted, quiet in a way that contrasted directly with how loud the rest of the brat pack was. 

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand as if to starve off a headache. 

“Yes, Baby Byers?” He asked after a long, painful pause, turning to look at the saddest looking kid in the bunch. 

“Is there actually a D&D club at the high school?” 

The kid looked at Steve like he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to hear the answer, but was hopeful for the outcome he wanted anyway. 

It was the kind of thing that pulled even on Gareth’s heartstrings, and he was almost immune to anything involving giant, sad eyes after a solid year of working at the arcade. 

(Never mind Eddie’s own puppy dog looks.)

Steve’s voice gentled, in a way Gareth had never quite heard him use before. “There is. You’d love it, it’s called Hellfire. I’m sure it’ll still be there next year when you come in as a freshman.” 

He nudged him with his shoulder playfully, smiling when the younger boy perked up. “If you’re nice, Garebear here might even put in a good word for you.” 

“Garebear?” Max repeated with a burst of laughter, appearing behind Steve like a fucking ghost. “Oh my god.” 

“No.” Gareth said, bolting upright from his slouch as he stared at her in horror. “Do not call me that.” 

“Sure thing, Garebear.” She outright cackled, as Steve sent him a wide-eyed, apologetic face. 

“What did you just call Gary?” The sporty one--Lucas, asked, a wide grin overtaking his face. 

“I swear to God.” Gareth threatened, as Steve took another dramatic look over his shoulder. 

“Hey look Jonathan’s here!” He yelled, jerking a thumb over his shoulder as he started quickly walking backwards. “Come on, dipshits, we're leaving!” 

“Bye Garebear!” Lucas and Max sang together, following after him. 

“Harrington!” Gareth howled, as Steve mouthed ‘Sorry’ over his shoulder, all but bolting out the door. 

“I like Garebear a lot better than Gary.” Another, random child informed him with a grin as he sauntered past, arcade tickets in hand. 

Steve Harrington, Gareth decided, was a dead man. 

Not even Eddie’s fucking crush on the guy could save him now. 

xXx

“Did you know Harrington has a literal pack of kids he watches?” Gareth asked a few hours later, messing with his drum kit as he set up for band practice. "He even drives them around." 

More than that though--he’d seemed almost normal around them. That was the most Gareth had seen the guy banter or act relaxed since Eddie had dragged him over. 

“He’s mentioned it multiple times.” Grant replied, tuning his bass. “You have ears Gareth, use them.” 

“Gareth? Listen?” Jeff teased as he dragged an amp into the garage. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.” 

"Oh screw you guys.” Gareth growled, winging a drumstick toward his friends for the insult.

Grant, long used to Gareth's tantrums (and Eddie's dramatics)  didn't look up from his bass.

Not even when the drumstick hit the wall with a bang!-- allll the way near the opposite end of the couch, entirely opposite of either him or Jeff. 

"As usual, your aim is dead on." Jeff appraised sarcastically. 

"Like I'd ever actually hit you." Gareth grumbled with a pout. "I was gonna say the kids are older than I expected."

He reached down, blindly fishing for another drumstick from the bucket of them next to his kit. 

He came up empty. 

"Hey Grantman." Gareth asked, tone changing to something mildly embarrassed. "Could I uh, could I get the drumstick back?" 

He got a flat stare back. "No." 

"What did I do to get stuck with such dramatic friends?" Jeff joked as he began moving all the amps he’d pulled in back into their usual places. 

They hadn't had time to unload anything other than the drums after their last show and the regret was real. 

"Eddie’s been standing on tables since seventh grade, you knew what you were getting into." Gareth fired back, making grabby hands for his drumstick. 

"And you never grew out of being that dorky middle schooler who snuck into Hellfire games and screamed we were all going to die every time anyone made a bad play." Jeff shot back. "Yet here I am, once again wondering if I should just permanently confiscate Eddie's snacks, your drumsticks, and now Harrington's fricken spatula." 

"One year. I am one year younger than you and you act like it's an entire century!" Gareth muttered, as Grant relented and leaned over to fetch said drumstick. 

"We all know Eddie chucks food at people, but what'd Steve do with a spatula?"  Grant asked as he tossed it back to Gareth.

He missed and nearly took out a cymbal in the process. 

"He had a snit while we were making chocolate roulade cause it wouldn’t roll right. Flung the spatula around so much it splattered whip cream on his ceiling." Jeff shook his head as he finished hooking an amp up to his guitar. "I had to rescue it from him." 

"His ceiling?" Gareth said in disbelief. "Wait, you were in Harrington’s kitchen?" 

"Yeah?" Jeff looked up to find his friends staring at him. 

Grant blinked. "The fuck?" 

“Can we just play?” Jeff complained, just as embarrassed as Gareth had been.

“No.” Gareth said, retrieved drumstick nearly falling from his hands in shock. “You don’t get to casually drop that you went to Harrington’s house to help him bake and then try to get us to play right after!” 

Jeff, who had done exactly that, blushed, skin darkening as he fiddled with his guitar.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” He said finally with a shrug, as if this was something he did all the time and not the groundbreaking revelation that it was.

“Did you meet his parents?” Grant said, sitting up from the couch. “What did his house look like?”

Jeff finally gave up the pretense of playing his instrument.

“I didn't, and it was kinda sad, actually.” He said, as if he didn’t live for this kind of shit. 

Gareth knew better than anyone how much of a fricken gossip Jeff could be. 

“His house was enormous. I only saw the first floor, and his kitchen is huge.” He set his hands apart at a good distance, showcasing just how large “huge” was, before continuing. 

“But it was weird. It was like a model home. No pictures on the walls, no art, no personality to the place at all.” 

“What are we talking about?” Eddie asked, finally returning to Gareth’s garage from where he’d been gathering up all the wires they’d thrown haphazardly into his van. 

“Jeff went to Harrington’s house.” Grant and Gareth tattled as one. 

“To help bake stuff for this Friday!” Jeff defended, the blush creeping back onto his face. “I was curious about his chocolate roulade recipe and he invited me over!” 

“When was this?” Eddie asked, staring at Jeff like he’d grown a second head. 

Or more likely, Gareth knew, in jealousy. But he wasn’t going to call Eddie out on that just yet. 

“Yesterday. We got to talking about it in the parking lot after school.” Jeff said with an embarrassed shrug. “He said he wasn’t the best at explaining how to do things and that he’d rather show me instead.” 

“Kinky.” Grant deadpanned, making Jeff sputter. 

“You sure you didn’t see his bedroom, Jeff? It’s okay if you fell for the ‘wanna see my music collection’ line. We won’t judge you.” Gareth waggled his eyebrows, ducking with a laugh when Jeff went to whack him. 

“Shut up, we just made the chocolate roulade!” Jeff’s ears were red now, and huh, maybe Eddie wasn’t the only person with a crush.  

“Guys.” Eddie reprimanded, tone warning. 

“Sorry Eds, you know we don’t mean it.” Gareth soothed. Of course, his best friend's anger was less about the gay comments or Steve’s reputation as Hawkin’s man whore than it was about Steve fucking Jeff (and not Eddie) but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated if he pointed that out either. 

Eddie didn’t respond, eyes already back on Jeff. "Details, Jeffery, give us the details!"  

He dropped onto the couch, flapping his hands at Jeff in his version of a "sit down" gesture. 

Jeff sighed, but repeated what he'd just said for Eddie as he took a seat on the edge of an amp, placing his guitar down gently. 

 "I think Wayne was right. I don't think anyone else lives there but Steve. Not full-time anyway." He finished. 

Which sounded like the best fucking thing ever until Gareth thought about it for more than two seconds. 

Tried to imagine what his life would be like if his parents and siblings were gone. Not for a day, or even a weekend, but always. 

How silent his normally loud house would be. 

Thought instantly that he'd be inviting Eddie, his friends, and hell, l even Wayne, over as often as they could handle. 

"The way he looked when I showed up, and how quiet he got when I left I just…" Jeff fiddled with his guitar’s strap. "I think he's lonely." 

The four of them sat in silence for a long moment as they digested that. 

“Hargrove kicked his ass right? And Byers?” Grant said finally, breaking the silence ad he stared up at the ceiling. 

“Old news.” Eddie replied absently, jiggling his leg.

“You think his parents were around for that?” Grant continued, slowly.

No one answered outside of Eddie's leg loudly jiggling faster. 

 "Did you see the kids hug him or anything?"

"They're like thirteen. I seriously doubt they're pestering Steve for hugs." Gareth answered flatly.  

 "So he got his ass kicked, his parents are gone, he was supposed involved in that whole has leak thing…" Grant trailed off with an air of someone who expected the end of his sentence to be obvious. 

“You’re doing that thing again where you think what you’re saying is obvious and its fucking not.” Eddie grumped. "Just spit it out." 

His friend's head finally tipped back down from the ceiling, to face the rest of them. “Maybe the flinching is because no one ever touches him anymore unless it’s to kick his ass.” 

“Oh.” Eddie blinked, body going rigid. “Oh shit.” 

“That…would make sense. A lot of sense.” Jeff said slowly. 

Grant put on a face that read “Duh” loud and clear. 

“So what do we do about it?" Gareth asked after a moment. 

"Touch him, obviously." Grant replied, like he couldn't believe the drummer was even asking.

Gareth and Eddie shared a look while Eddie rolled his eyes.  

"The guy almost fell down the stairs last time I tried that." Gareth pointed out. 

Never mind any other time Steve got weird over the lightest of touches. Eddie couldn't even clap the guy on the shoulder without getting major side-eye. 

"No."  Eddie cut in, sitting up suddenly. His eyes had gone bright, "We're going to trick him into it." 

"We're going to trick Harrington into being okay with, what? Shoulder pats?"  Gareth echoed, like Eddie might hear himself if his words were repeated back to him. “You realize how stupid that sounds right?" 

"Shut up, listen. It's like getting a stray to trust you. You just gotta be calm and so obvious about it that they get confused and let it happen." Eddie had begun practically vibrating, causing his friends to trade uneasy glances. 

They knew that look. Eddie only got it when he thought up a plan that was going to cause problems. 

"Eddie, that makes zero sense." Jeff told him.

Gareth just shook his head, because only Eddie Munson could compare Hawkins golden boy with a fucking stray animal. 

Even if the guy kinda acted like one sometimes. 

"I just need an opening." Eddie continued, the little hamster wheel spinning in his head so fast the rest of the band could almost hear it. 

If Gareth had been told two months ago he was going to be sitting in his garage, discussing the best way to acclimate Steve Harrington to casual touch, he’d have actually smacked whatever idiot dared spew such nonsense with his drumsticks. 

"I did tell tell the kids today you were making him a D&D character." He said, before his best friend could truly go off on some half cocked plot. 

Eddie lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Gary, I could kiss you."

Gareth made a face. "Please don't."

He clapped hard before springing to his feet. "Huddle up boys, I've got a plan." 

"God help us all." Jeff muttered. 

(He huddled up anyway, any thoughts of playing guitar that night fully forgotten.) 

Bonus: 

"Why don't you just get high and watch a movie with Steve? You're a fucking cling-on when you're high." Gareth complained the next morning, when Eddie swung by to pick him up for school. 

Mostly because the plan Eddie had come up with was ridiculous.

 Eddie took both hands off the wheel, pressing them against his chest in mock offense while he stared at Gareth and not at the street. “That would be taking advantage of him and I, as a gentleman, would never." He gasped, dramatically. 

In his normal voice, he added: "Plus it doesn't count." 

“Eyes on the road!” Gareth yelped, swatting an arm. “And you know I didn’t mean it like that. People relax more when they're high and maybe Steve needs something like that as an excuse to allow it. Hell he doesn’t even need to be high, just you.”

Which Gareth personally thought was a very insightful thing to say, so of course he had to ruin it with; “or whatever.” 

"Do you recall how you kissed Jeff on the cheek when you were high and then spent the entire next month swearing up and down that you weren't attracted to men last summer?" 

"That was different. I was discovering myself." 

Eddie outright cackled. "Discovering yourself? What self help book did you pick that gem out of?"

"I was quoting you, you moron!" Gareth sputtered. 

"If I said anything like that then I was definitely high and it just proves my point. Steve would just be uncomfortable."Eddie stuck his tongue out. "So there." 

"Fine." Gareth sighed. "If we ever get high with Harrington, I'll sit in his lap."

Eddie's eye twitched. "No you will not."

Thrilled to have something to tease the elder metalhead about, a smile graced Gareth's face. "In fact, I'm calling dibs." 

"You can't call dibs on a lap! And besides, you don't even like him like that!" 

"So?" Gareth retorted. "It's a nice lap, looks comfortable. You don't want it, so I'll take it."

Eddie grit his teeth, grasping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white. 

"I know what you're doing Gary. This is some bullshit reverse psychology shit and I will not be falling for it." 

"Oh contraire, this is sibling bullshit, Munson. You want it, so I want it." Gareth crossed his arms and looked at Eddie smugly. "And unless you do something about it, I'm getting it." 

"I hate you." 

Gareth grinned, delighted. "I know." 

[ikarakie]

hopper sees steve as a surrogate son. really, he shouldn't make such a habit of picking up stray children, but he looked at harrington and saw a kid who just... needed someone. saw the vacancy in his eyes when he thought no one was looking. saw the police file, the noise complaints and the few reports from hawkins middle school about suspicious bruises that had been swept away. saw a boy who'd seen too much. who just needed someone to lean on.

so he tries to be that. offers the kid a hand every now and then. keeps an eye on him, all alone in that big house, after everything. after '83 and then '84 and then summer of '85, when he'd signed his medical papers because there was no other adult for him around. it always left him a bit hollow, but he told himself that it was okay as long as he was around. as long as steve knew, deep down, that he could come to hopper for help, even if he'd wait until he was on the brink of overload before doing so.

it's all this that makes the sight of steve's car, that brown beemer that had dropped his daughter back home so many times, pulled into a ditch with the lights off cause his stomach to sink. a million awful things come to mind as he pulls in behind it and quickly hops out of his cruiser.

had he seen something and spiralled into a panic? had he gotten a bad migraine? had he run off into the woods alone?

thankfully, he finds the best case scenario: a slightly flushed and dishevelled steve rolling down a foggy window. grinning like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar when he realises it's just hopper. he's fine, he's in one piece.

what's not fine, however, is the person with him in the backseat. eddie fucking munson, a kid hopper's put in handcuffs more than once. not because he's another boy, who gives a shit about that, but because it's eddie munson. drug dealer, general troublemaker, and definitely a bad influence on his boy.

he does his best to save the judgement this time, sensing the fear emanating off the couple. tells them to be more careful, to go home and kiss or do whatever there instead in case anyone else drives by tonight. munson looks at him like he's grown a second head, (which, fair. usually their interactions go a lot less amicably than this) and steve just tears up and nods. he reaches in to ruffle the boy's hair, ignoring the protests, before reluctantly trudging back to his car and driving away.

he calls steve the next afternoon and gets him to confess that, yes, he is dating edward 'eddie' munson. no, it's not a fling. yes, they're boyfriends, god help him. he gripes about it a decent amount, because really, steve? that one? you picked that one? but he keeps the tone light enough that steve feels comfortable enough to defend eddie's honour amidst laughter. within a week he's got steve sat across from him, eddie by his side looking two seconds away from shitting himself.

"well, boys." he grins, cracking his knuckles. eddie watches. gulps. "let's have a little chat, shall we?"

[steddieas-shegoes]

cw: implied domestic abuse (zero detail is given)

Eddie was late for school at least once a week. It wasn’t a problem of getting up and getting ready on time, his mom made sure he was moving.

He could hear the way the new neighbors fought sometimes, saw the way the older boy would rush into his vehicle and practically fly out of the park. He’d watch as the younger girl, Red, would follow soon after, backpack slung over her shoulder and feet kicking rocks as she walked to the main road to catch the bus.

He didn’t stop her the first time it happened. To be honest, she looked furious and he didn’t exactly want to be torn to pieces by a girl at least 5 years younger than him.

But the second time, he swore he saw a few tears on her face and he couldn’t not at least try.

When she didn’t immediately murder him, he decided it was probably safe to offer a ride to school. Surprisingly, she agreed.

And this continued for months.

Annie Munson would get a call from the school every couple of times and try to explain, but any Munson excuse was not an excuse they cared to hear.

She didn’t say anything to Eddie about it; didn’t want him to feel like he was doing anything wrong by being kind to someone who needed all the kindness they could get. She saw the way Mrs. Mayfield seemed to stay curled into herself even when he wasn’t around. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

But eventually, the school threatened to call child protective services, and Annie couldn’t let Eddie deal with that. He’d already had enough of that before they moved in with Wayne.

So she pulled him aside the night of that call and hugged him hard, told him she loved him for his big heart, his caring soul, but he had to figure out how to not be late to school.

He could read between the lines easily enough.

Max started showing up at their door 15 minutes earlier every morning, not quite smiling, but not looking quite as angry. Annie welcomed her in as she finished packing her lunch for work, didn’t really try to talk to her much. She left that to Eddie, who always came down the short hallway with a beaming smile and a “Hey Red! Long time no see!” or a “You’re looking slightly less murderous this morning, did you already sacrifice something to Satan? Without me?”

Max always tried to hide a smile, but Annie caught it.

Eddie had that energy that made everyone feel just a hint of sun on a cloudy day.

It continued well into Max’s freshman year. Especially after her step brother died in a tragic mall fire and her step dad booked it out of town, she needed someone.

At school, they pretended not to know each other. Eddie explained it was easier on Max that way, and she had other friends, or so she said. He never really saw her hanging out with them, but he just assumed they had different schedules.

Annie saw through it. She was pretty sure Eddie saw through it. Neither of them risked her running for the hills, though.

- - - -

After the earthquake, Annie spent as much time with Eddie and Max as she could. Max’s mom seemed distant, like she couldn’t process any of what happened. Max deserved better than that, so Annie did her best.

It was easy to forget how young she was when she spoke. The boy who sat by her side nearly 24/7, Lucas, explained that she had to fend for herself since she was pretty young, as if she still wasn’t pretty young.

As soon as Eddie was able to leave his bed, he asked to be wheeled over to Max’s room.

“Gotta make sure she didn’t perform any satanic rituals without me,” he joked, though it fell flat when it hit him that most people still thought he actually performed satanic rituals.

Annie had to get home and make dinner for her and Wayne, so the Harrington boy volunteered to take him.

Annie was perceptive enough to see why the Harrington boy, Steve, was around nearly every day. She was also perceptive enough to see the way Eddie blushed when Steve wrapped his arm around his waist to help him into the wheelchair. She’d ask him about it later.

She did at least walk with them to the elevator, listened to their quiet conversation about Max being half blind and her arms being in casts.

The next day, she visited Eddie as usual before work, brought him a hot coffee. He was still asleep, his hand stretched out towards a sleeping Steve. Steve’s fingers were just barely touching Eddie’s, like they’d maybe been holding hands at some point until someone shifted in their sleep.

She set the coffee down on the table by his bed and scratched a note on the pad he’d been using for campaign notes.

Maybe they could bring Steve a cot if he’s gonna be a permanent fixture in your room. Love, mama

She folded it in half and set the coffee cup on top of it so hopefully only Eddie would see.

But if Steve saw it, maybe that would be okay.

- - - -

When Max got out of the hospital, Eddie was waiting for her in his van, only just released from police custody a few days before.

She shook her head.

“I may actually have to do a satanic ritual to get into that thing. I thought Steve was getting me in his car?”

The nurses scoffed at her words, but Eddie ignored her.

“Steve had to take Robin to the school for volunteering. And I brought Lucas to help,” he gestured behind him to where Lucas was hesitantly standing by the passenger door. “Between the two of us, we can get you in and out. No satanic ritual required. This time.”

He winked at the nurse, just to be a shit.

“Annie said she’d bring me cake when I got home,” Max said as they maneuvered her into the passenger seat and waved the nurse away.

“She’s at home baking it as we speak, Red.”

“Oh.” She said it like she actually didn’t believe it would happen. Maybe she didn’t. “Cool. I guess.”

Eddie smirked. “When my mama says she’ll do something, she does it. And if she can’t, she’ll do the next best thing. Never doubt her.”

“Yeah, but I’m not her kid.”

“Neither is Lucas, but she packed him lunches everyday for the last two weeks when she realized he wasn’t leaving your room to get something. Neither is Steve, but she makes his favorite for dinner once a week. Neither is Dustin, but she held him until his mom could get to the hospital when they were trying to set his ankle. If she cares about you, she does it.”

Max nodded. “I guess that’s a nice thing to have.”

“Yeah. And you have it now. So don’t push her away. Or any of us. Got it?”

Max snorted. “I haven’t had a moment alone in over a month. It’s not like I can get rid of any of you.”

“Exactly. Glad we’re on the same page!”

She turned to Lucas the best she could and glared. “You’re taking me to the movies as soon as these casts are off.”

“Yeah! Okay, yep!” He agreed quickly.

Eddie snorted. “Jesus Christ. You two are ridiculous.”

“Whatever,” they said in unison.

- - - -

When everyone was able to go back to school, Eddie drove them all.

He had a diploma, so he didn’t have to worry about being late, but he still woke up early enough to pick them all up and drop them off.

Max was always the last one out of the van.

“No satanic rituals without me,” Eddie would tell her.

“Not until Saturday!” Max would answer him.

[wheatnoodle]

we talk about steve having a father-crush on wayne, like he wants to be adopted by him or whatever

what about steve just actually having a crush on wayne LMAO. somethin about gruff older men really does it for him so he gets all nervous and blushy around wayne and/or hopper

it drives eddie absolutely insane that wayne can make steve giggle like a schoolgirl and that wayne purposefully goes along with it. wayne just likes making the harrington boy smile, he’s too young to look so tired.

(eddie hasn’t pieced together that steve’s eye rolls and fond smiles he gives him are little confessions of how much he loves him)

[afewproblems]

I just got a tattoo done and was thinking about all of the before and after care instructions they gave me and how older Eddie would have possibly reacted to the list of things he would need to do or items to purchase for a new addition to his sleeve.

The artist reaches out to Eddie years after corroded coffin makes it big. She's fairly well known as a minor celebrity herself in the tattoo and body modification space in LA, so when she contacts Eddie's agent about offering a new piece for his eclectic sleeve he checks out her portfolio and is immediately sold.

She sends him the idea and he signs off on it right away and before they know it, he and Steve are on a plane from Chicago to Los Angeles.

It isn't until it's done, and the second skin is placed over the piece, smoothed out to ensure no bubbling, that Eddie balks at the secondary list of steps he needs to take.

The artist taps out the instruction email on her phone, hitting send with a dimpled grin before reaching out to shake his hand and Steve's, thanking them for being such great new clients. She asks Steve if he would be interested in a piece at some point, to which he smiles politely and shakes his head.

Steve has never been into tattoos for himself, though he's always gone to great lengths to admire and kiss each piece on Eddie's body.

Eddie half listens as they continue to chat, pulling out his phone to review the email she sent him.

"Ensure that you leave the second skin on for three to five days and upon its removal (see removal instructions on page two)..."

Eddie has to stop himself from rolling his eyes right then and there. It's not as though this is his first ever tattoo, he's been getting ink since before this girl was even born.

He winces at the thought, reminding himself that just because she's young doesn't mean she doesn't know her shit, and she clearly does. He shakes his head and nods when Steve says goodbye for them and they make their way to the elevator.

"Okay, what's with the face?" Steve asks quietly as soon as the door closes.

Eddie sighs and folds his arms over his chest, careful not to bump the now tender area on his forearm.

"You look like you swallowed a lemon, spill," he reaches out for Eddie's shoulder, his warm hazel eyes, now lined with gentle wrinkles at the edges search his face, "do you not like it?"

Eddie barks out a laugh, "it's probably one of the nicest ones in the whole collection, no Stevie, it's not that".

Steve raises his eyebrow now and just looks at Eddie until the elevator dings and the doors open before them.

God Dammit.

He loves and hates this ability, that Steve knows Eddie will crack eventually if he just waits long enough.

"Fine!" Eddie sighs as they make their way back to the hotel.

It's gorgeous out, nothing like the weather back home right now, the palm trees lining the streets and the twinkling fairy lights on every corner gives the area an almost magical feel, despite the bustling pedestrians packing the sidewalks.

"It's a little weird all the instructions," Eddie says eventually. He speaks slowly, doing his best to articulate exactly what he feels.

Steve nods, though the confused pinch between his brow doesn't quite fade.

"And I've been getting these done since it eighties, Steve, it's just a little--"

Eddie growls and tugs on his hair in frustration, "I don't want to be shitty".

Steve shrugs and loops his arm around Eddie's small waist, tugging him closer.

"Be shitty, you know I love it," he grins and lifts his free hand to remove Eddie's from his hair, "what about the instructions made you upset?"

"It's like I'm being talked down to," Eddie says with a frown, "I got a stick and poke from Jeff in '84 that was totally fine with out any of this," he lifts his arm now to show off the shiny second skin to Steve who nods.

"And which one was that again?" Steve asks, there's a leading lilt to his voice that makes Eddie want to sit on the sidewalk.

He huffs out a low whine, "Steve--"

"Eddie," Steve answers with a soft smile.

And Eddie knows he's lost this argument, if you could even call it that, because the bats that Jeff did for him all the way back in '84, have since been covered up.

Over the years they had morphed into six blobs of bluish grey on the back of his forearm that could no longer be distinguishable as bats, and after being asked about his 'abstract' tattoos by an interviewer a few years back, he had made the decision to get them covered.

And it could have been any number of things that lead to the eventual fading and blobification of his bats, but Eddie figured it was probably because they had almost immediately gotten infected a few days after Jeff had finished them in his parents garage.

Eddie clears his throat and opens the email on his phone again, taking another look at the list the artist had sent him.

"Fine, you gonna help me take care of this thing Stevie?" Eddie grumbles as they enter the revolving door of the hotel, stepping carefully into the pie shaped section to avoid colliding with the moving entryway.

Steve snorts and lets his hand curl through one of the belt loops on Eddie's jeans, "I think I remember agreeing to something like that, in sickness and health?"

He leans forward and nuzzels his nose into Eddie's ear, "till the end of our days".

[2jihiir0]

“You sure your daddy allowed you to get this?”

🪡🖤

Let’s just say Steve goes to the local sleazy drug dealer because he’s also the only “piercer” in town. (Not really licensed but you know) Steve really wants to get a nipple piercing because he heard from his friends that girls dig it and it looks sexy. He’s nervous but something about Eddie lures him in.

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

time travel au that has everyone circa season 1 travelling like ten years into the future and s1 steve and robin, who do not know each other in any way, have to come to terms with the fact that in ten years they'll apparently be married?????

and also eddie munson apparently lives with them which is definitely super weird but steve's too worried about his apparent fall in standards and robins too worried that she's like. failed as a lesbian and caved to be in a loveless heterosexual marriage to notice that older steve and robin are clearly close, yeah, but they never kiss or do anything explicitly romantic, and older eddie munson is literally hanging off older steve looking like he's gonna die of laughter any time s1 steve asks if older him and robin are trying for kids

[fuctacles]

A tale as old as time

For @subeddieweek Day 7 | M | 2696 | cw: age gap (about 25-30y difference, Eddie's age is not stated, Steve's aligns with canon) | camboy Eddie, transmasc Eddie, kinda sugar daddy Steve?, modern AU, simp Steve, virgin Eddie, chatfic, pre-anything, gray ace Eddie | Ao3

"Hawkins High '86? How old is this guy?" Eddie asks himself, his eyebrows raised. There is a letterman in front of him, a gift from one of his top subscribers. Hell, his top subscriber. His number-one fan, who was responsible for about half of his revenue.

He's opened a PO box recently, with no little amount of worry about what kind of stuff he might get. He only gave the address to his top subscribers but he knew that the ones with the most money were usually the most unhinged. He went to the post office with his heart in his throat but all he got was a set of lingerie, a toy, and the letterman he was now holding.

He tried not to think about what kind of people would pay for his content. As long as he was making money he didn't care. But now he got a piece of one of them in his hands. Staring back.

1986.

Meaning the guy must be nearing 60. Double Eddie's age. 

He tries to imagine that. An older guy, with wrinkles, maybe a beer belly, a gross old t-shirt, and his hand permanently in his sweats, beating it to his photos. 

It was gross. And in a way, alluring.

Though someone with so much money to spend on a camboy must have a well-paying job. Some rich asshole, exploiting others to do the work for him. That's a more likely scenario. He tries not to think about big, rough hands on him when he puts on the jacket and takes pics for Shar.

He edits them a bit before sending them, knowing the guy will get a kick from seeing him in his jacket. The appeal of wearing your boyfriend's letterman eluded him in high school, but being claimed like that gave him a heady feeling. The fact that the guy could be his father apparently worked for him too. 

He doesn't put his phone away fast enough and sees the message that pops up.

Shar: So hot. You look like every repressed teen jock's dream

Shar: Definitely like mine

Eddie thinks a moment about his response, channeling the persona he takes on for the camera. 

PuppetOfMasters: Would I be your dirty secret?

PuppetOfMasters: Would you fuck me in the locker room behind your girlfriend's back?

Shar: I'd make YOU my girlfriend

Shar: Wait no

Shar: NOT LIKE THAT

Shar: A girlfriend but in a manly way

Eddie snorts.

You're good, he types. I know what you mean, don't worry.

He wouldn't keep around someone who didn't respect him. Besides, he made it clear he's saving for a transition with his Only Fans.

Thank god, Shar types. I respect who you are 

Shar: In fact, I spend so much money on you because of it. 

Eddie rolls onto his other side, his mood souring. One of those trans fetishists, then. That's fine, as long as he's being respectful and paying... Even if it leaves an unpleasant taste in his mouth. 

Ah, a connoisseur! Well, I hope I'm your favorite tranny, then, he jokes. He waits for an answer, but it doesn't come for a long while, so he flips his phone screen down and turns away, hoping for sleep.

A response is waiting for him when he wakes up. 

Shar: I guess it sounded that way, but I'm not that kind of pervert. You're the only trans sex worker I follow, but not the only trans person I've sent money to.

Eddie sauntered to the bathroom, not taking his eyes off his phone. He wonders if continuing the conversation is even the right move. He's talked to one too many guys who thought sending him a dick pick was okay after ten minutes of small talk between a content creator and a fan.

But he's kind of curious. When he has money to spare, he sends some change to other trans folks to help out, because he knows how hard it is from his own experience. But why Shar, a seemingly loaded old guy, would spend his money on queers instead of, let's say, starving children?

PuppetOfMasters: So you're just an ally with cash? Or is there more to it? I'm curious.

He goes through his morning routine, washing his face, and brushing his teeth, not expecting Shar to get back to him any time soon. So he's surprised when he picks his phone back up and a response is waiting.

Shar: Long story short, I hope my father is rolling in his grave while I spend his inheritance on people he hated so much.

That's not what Eddie expected at all. 

PuppetOfMasters: So I'm a means of rebellion against your bigoted dead father? I'll take that. I hate rich assholes

Shar: Me too

They don't talk for the whole day after that, but when Eddie's done running errands and editing in the evening, he looks back at the letterman hanging on the door of his wardrobe. 

How is sending me your letterman an act of rebellion? he asks. Because he's a curious little shit. 

The response comes fast like the guy is glued to his Only Fans chat. Gross. Eddie wonders briefly if he's talking with other sex workers there.

Shar: A souvenir of his precious high school fetishized on a queer ssex worker? He'd die if he hadn't already

So it is a fetish thing! Eddie smiles triumphantly at his phone.

Shar: Okay, fine

Shar: Sticking it to my father is just a bonus for you being really hot. 

Shar: And I do love seeing you in my letterman, I've jerked off to it three times already

Shar: is that what you wanted to hear?

Eddie grins, rolling on his bed.

PuppetOfMasters: Yes 

Shar: So yeah, I'm an old man who peaked in high school, laugh it up

PuppetOfMasters: I'd rather you peaked in me

Shar: Insufferable

Shar: Menace

Shar: Yeah, I'd love that. A man can dream, right?

Eddie bites his lip. How far is too far? The guy seems genuine and after the amount of creeps that's been chatting him up, he thinks his creep radar is quite good. Tentatively, he starts typing.

PuppetOfMasters: I don't know. I think people would like seeing me get railed by an older guy

Shar: An old guy, you mean

Shar: You'd make a video with me?

PuppetOfMasters: I record most of the sex I have, yes

Shar: Huh. I've never seen one before, then

PuppetOfMasters: warm, warmer

Shar: ... There aren't any?

PuppetOfMasters: din ding ding! ya boy is a virgin

Shar: shit

Shar: fuck

Shar: that's so hot

Shar: you'd let me?

PuppetOfMasters: Would I let my best-paying subscriber be my first time on camera? Probably

Not necessarily to be released but he couldn't lose the possibility of such golden content in case it was watchable. 

Shar: I'd better keep my spot then. Just in case.

PuppetOfMasters: No worries, you seem the most trustworthy so far anyway.

But as he types it, a new notification appears. Shar sent him a hefty tip on one of his photos.

PuppetOfMasters: That's really not necessary

PuppetOfMasters: But I hope your father is kicking and screaming in his coffin

Shar: I fucking hope so

----

It takes Eddie another day to google Hawkins High's yearbook photos. He'd thought about it before but didn't want to break the bubble of anonymity between himself and his fan. But the thoughts of big hands on his hips, and beard rubbing against his neck, took root in his brain and were tainting his mind.

Not fully in tune with his body and distrustful of others, Eddie has been single for most of his life. And now his stupid horny brain was drooling at the thought of losing his virginity to a grandpa on the internet. 

Hoping it would help his thoughts calm down, he looks through the photos from the year 1986, in search of a Harrington. And he finds him.

Steve Harrington. Basketball captain and swim team co-captain. His hairdo was magnificent and his smile was self-confident. Eddie would hate him in high school. Should probably hate him now. So he expands his search further, beyond the Hawkins High memory lane.

He finds one single photo on a LinkedIn profile. 

The current Steve Harrington's hair is no less magnificent, just peppered with silver. He wears glasses now, which accentuate the line of his jaw and make his neatly trimmed facial hair pop out. He's wearing a yellow jacket and a white golf, which should be hideous but weirdly, works for him. Eddie doesn't get to see his eyes, unfortunately. The photo looks like a candid photo shoot take-out after someone told him a joke. His head is tilted down, eyes scrunched and lips pulled in a smile, as a bubbling laugh got immortalized on camera.

Eddie shouldn't be finding a sixty-year-old man this endearing. 

PuppetOfMasters: I like your LinkedIn photo

PuppetOfMasters: Well, I hope it's you. 

PuppetOfMasters: Steve, right?

He can't forget about this for the whole day, not as he budgets his income, and especially not when he records a short video jerking off in the shower. He tries not to look at his phone but it's his only one, so he does while trying to budget in a second one, just for sex work. Maybe then he wouldn't be feeling so insane about not getting a response from a stranger who is an old pervert spending loads of money on him. 

He tries to be normal when a chat notification finally pops up. 

Shar: If you saw the golf and yellow jacket photo, that's me

Shar: though please don't make me type my full name in here.

no worries, Eddie types back so fast he should be embarrassed. It's a good photo.

Shar: Thanks. My best friend took it 

PuppetOfMasters: Your friend has a good eye

Shar: I'll let her know

Shar: I'm surprised it took you this long to search me up

Eddie's surprised too. Usually, his curiosity would take over him sooner.

PuppetOfMasters: I tried not to pry. But I had to in case we were gonna meet up one day

Shar: So you were serious?

Shar: I've been wondering if you sweet-talk all your followers like that 

PuppetOfMasters: Only the ones that don't send me dick pics

Shar: I knew holding back would pay off

Eddie snorts at his phone. 

Though I might need one before we meet up, he types. Gotta know what I'm working with

Shar: Right. Of course

Shar: So how would that work?

Eddie hasn't thought about it this far.

PuppetOfMasters: I need to read about OF's policy on collabs. Never had to before, since I work solo. Would probably have to hire you, well, sign a commission/gig contract or something like that. So it's all legal and shit.

Shar, Steve, doesn't answer for a long while, and it might be the end of his devirginizing journey. Well, if the guy doesn't want to make this legal, put his name on some paperwork, then he isn't trustworthy, and that's the end of it.

It's half an hour later and Eddie's bitten all his nails off trying not to follow up with any messages and focus on anything else when an answer finally comes.

Shar: Sorry my friend was bothering me

Shar: this sounds more complicated than I anticipated. So I would be like, a co-creator, then?

PuppetOfMasters: Precisely

Shar: Holy shit okay

Shar: Thought I'd be you know, less involved

Though you could hit it and quit it, huh? Eddie scrunched his nose. What was he getting himself into? Gods.

Shar: If that's what you wanted I'd take it

Eddie shouldn't be blushing over this one. It's like he's throwing the man scraps and he's licking them up.

PuppetOfMasters: Simp

Shar: I am what I am

Shar: With that said, I'm willing to make it work. Do all the paperwork you need

PuppetOfMasters: Doing paperwork just to fuck me? so romantic

Shar: I suck at paperwork so my friend would be doing it anyway

Shar: If that's okay

PuppetOfMasters: I think it's best if someone looks it over, yeah

Eddie hesitates for a moment.

PuppetOfMasters: That friend doesn't happen to be your wife?

Fuck no, comes the immediate response

Shar: I'm perpetually single and she's as gay as they come. 

PuppetOfMasters: Good. Wouldn't want to be the other girl

Shar: If I had the chance you'd be the only one

PuppetOfMasters: Jesus.

Eddie squeezes his legs together unconsciously.

PuppetOfMasters: Stop sweet talking me, I've already agreed to fuck

Shar: But we haven't signed anything yet. Even then, I'll keep sweet-talking you. It's what you deserve. 

For the first time, Eddie thinks he might not survive their meeting. And not because of the possible killer scenario. Thankfully, Steve gets back to business talk.

Shar: How would this work, legal stuff aside? Do you script this?

PuppetOfMasters: Do I look like I script shit?

Shar: I'm not the one with Only Fans

PuppetOfMasters: Fair. I think we could just set up cameras and do whatever we feel like. Then decide together if the footage will be released or not. 

Shar: Sounds reasonable

Shar:When would you want to do this?

When?

Eddie hasn't thought that far. In fact, he felt like he hadn't been thinking for the past couple of days. 

I'm the sole god of my schedule so I'm open to anything, he types evasively.

Shar: I have some time off next month, could fly to wherever you need me

Next month seemed close. Extremely close. Or maybe it wasn't? He never worked with anyone before. Hell, he didn't even have that many friends to meet up with. 

Next month works I guess, he answers despite his nerves.

Shar: Wanna face time before we start the legal work?

His nerves escalate, making his mouth dry. He reminds himself he's done this before, he's on camera all the time. 

PuppetOfMasters: Like, right now?

Shar: Yeah?

PuppetOfMasters: Ok, give me five minutes.

Eddie shoots up, checks himself in the mirror, and finds a good angle for his phone to set up. He lowkey hopes Steve picks up with his dick in the frame so Eddie can block him with a clear conscience and forget about the whole thing. When six minutes from his last message pass, he hits 'call'.

"Hi," Eddie squeaks when the video connects. Steve Harrington's arms are in the frame, crossed on the desk, and toned where he's leaning on them.

"Hi," he greets him with a dazzling smile. 

It is the guy from the photo, so at least he's not being catfished. And he has none of the creepy simp energy Eddie feared. He's just... a guy. It's both a relief and a disappointment. 

"Well?" the guy asks.

"Well, what?" Eddie frowns. 

"Are you disappointed? Am I too old?"

Eddie looks at him properly. His hair is lighter on the sides, but not grey yet, and the video quality doesn't make any wrinkles stand out to him. Maybe some worry lines, crow's feet if he squints. He looks like he keeps in shape, too. Eddie wouldn't call him old. Mature, maybe. A DILF slowly transforming into a Silver Fox. 

"You look fine. Good. You look good. Attractive," Eddie fumbles with his words and barely stops himself from facepalming. This is why he mostly texts.

Steve smirks at him. And holy shit, a dude twice his age smirking at him shouldn't be doing things to his body.

"You sure? You're not gonna block me after we hang up, are you?"

Eddie shakes his head.

"I stand by our plans. You're passing my creep radar so far, but uh..." He scratches his cheek nervously. "I'd like to keep in touch in case, you know. A red flag pops up. I hope you get it."

Steve nods, his expression growing serious.

"Absolutely. We're strangers, after all."

"Yeah." Eddie nods, relieved. It would give him ample time and opportunities to back out.

On the screen, Steve leans more on his arms, closer to the camera. 

"So I think dick assessment is next on the checklist?"

Eddie might not even survive video calls with this guy, after all. 

[puppy-steve]

a whole lifetime

steddie | E | 1.6k | ao3 link

written for @steddieas-shegoes's birthday! happy birthday, mick! 💙🫂 i hope you enjoy this filth sprinkled amongst all the fluff <3

important tags: rockstar eddie, older steddie, married steddie, birthday sex (full taglist on ao3)

If there was ever a time for Eddie to hate being famous, it was now. Four and a half thousand miles away from home—from his family, from his friends, from his husband—on a tour he’s been against from the moment their label announced it.

And it’s his birthday, for Christ’s sake.

Don’t get him wrong, Barcelona is beautiful and the fans have been great, but between three nights of sold out shows with soundchecks and interviews and one meet and greet thrown in, Eddie is ready to catch the first flight back to Indiana so he can sleep in his own bed.

Performing in front of a crowd of two thousand on his birthday used to give him an adrenaline rush so high, he would still be riding the waves of it the next day. He finds himself longing for the birthdays he spent before the band became famous. The most memorable was the first birthday after Wayne was officially granted custody of him; sitting at the shitty little card table in the trailer kitchen with a slice of Wayne’s infamous blackberry cobbler in front of him, because he knew Eddie didn’t like how dry regular cake was.

Eddie sighs, can feel the exhaustion settle deep in his bones as he slips the keycard into the lock on his hotel room door.

He’s only forty-three, but retirement is starting to sound pretty damn nice.

He kicks off his shoes by the door and lets his leather jacket drop onto the entryway table. Eddie scoffs, he still hasn’t gotten used to staying in five star hotels like this, where the rooms are like houses. The master suite is separate from the common area, and there’s a kitchenette off from that. He pulls a glass down from the fully stocked cabinet and fills it with water, gulping it down with a grateful moan as the cold water soothes his overworked vocal chords.

“Happy birthday, handsome.”

[sp0o0kylights]

There were a lot of things Mike hated in life.

The demogorgon, and how it had essentially destroyed his life.

 Brenner, and the madhouse laboratory El had survived. 

How each and every one of his friends now did something weird--were weird, because flashing lights or fireworks or some stupid tune a toy horse played dragged up memories that made their eyes flat and faces hollow. 

Most of all though, Mike hated how much they relied on Steve.

There was no reason he should be the person to call when it started pouring and no one wanted to bike home from AV. 

Steve wasn’t Nancy, or Jonathan, or a parent--he wasn’t even dating anyone related to any of the Party anymore so what excuse did he have to keep hanging around? 

(Even if Jonathan was always working, and Nancy was always busy with some club or homework, and everyone’s parents all seemed to be in a race of who could get back to normal the fastest…) 

They should at least try to get a hold of other people, instead of constantly going to Steve first.

“Why?” Dusitn had scoffed at him the last time this had happened, feeding quarters into a phone and staring at Mike like he was the one being unreasonable. “I’m not gonna waste money just to hear your sister tell us no again when we all know Steve will do it.” 

Which was perhaps the most infuriating part of it all.

That Steve would do it. 

Show up and help them, even if he bitched the whole time. 

Hell, Steve Harrington knew more about Mike’s life offhand than Nancy did, and that made him want to punch a wall more days than it didn’t. Why the hell was Steve so involved? 

It was stupid. 

Weird, even! They weren’t friends, (even if Dustin and Max and El of all people said the opposite) he wasn’t being paid to babysit, (Mike had double checked; going round to ask Ma Henderson and Mrs. Sinclair, only to get an earful of how wonderful Steve was from both.) he had no reason to hang around! 

It didn’t make sense that Steve could be harassed into picking them up from school. 

Would take them to get ice cream, or hand over extra quarters for the arcade. He even gave out advice like some kind of--brother that Mike had never wanted. 

Above all?

Mike hated that when he needed someone, the number he punched in on automatic was Steve’s.

“I need you to come get me.” He said into the receiver, mad at himself and the world, but mostly mad that beyond the normal amount of squawking Steve did, he shut up and came. 

Drove up in his rich boy car, stepping out and herding Mike into it like the rain hadn’t already seeped into his bones. 

“You wanna tell me why you snuck into a bar two towns over?” Steve asked, long after Mike had slung himself into the passenger seat, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

“No.” 

One of Steve’s hands went right to his hair, running through it before adjusting the mess he’d just made. 

It was a nervous habit, and Mike hated that he knew that too. 

“Okay, well.” Steve’s hand fell back to the steering wheel, clenching tight around it. “Next time you want to do something dumb could you at least come talk to me about it beforehand?”

“What the hell would that do?” Mike bitched, staring firmly out of the window. 

“Not waste my gas for starters.” Steve bitched right back. “But I dunno man, we could have taken some bats and gone and wailed on cars in the junkyard and talked or some shit, not--whatever this all was.”

‘This all’ was accompanied by a wave of his hand, indicating not just the bar Mike had been standing in front of, but his general sopping wet state. 

“You’d actually go to the junkyard with me?” Mike challenged, doubtful. 

Steve made a face. “Did you lose your hearing in there? I just said--.” 

“Why?” Mike interrupted. “Why the fuck would you come out with me?”

Matching his entire aggressive tone, Steve said; “Because it’s better than trying to sneak into the one local gay bar when you’re barely fourteen, Michael.” 

And that? 

Steve being oddly aware of shit he really shouldn’t have?

Mike hated that too. 

“You knew what the bar was?” He asked, his voice coming out much smaller than he intended. 

“Everyone knows what that bar is, except it’s more of a biker bar than a gay bar.” Steve shot back--which did actually explain about ten different questions Mike had about the place. “Also, language you little shit.” 

Under his breath, Steve continued in a muttered; “I swear I’m going to start carrying around soap.”

“You cuss more than we do.” Mike responded, and if his own voice was a little strangled as he fought back the sudden swell of tears, then that was between him and God. 

He was not crying in front of Steve Harrington, he outright refused. 

“The point I’m making is that there are way better bars to sneak into. That one’s not nearly as welcoming as people make it out to be, probably because they’re sick of all the rumors.” 

Steve seemed to realize what he was implying because he quickly added; “Not that you should be sneaking into any bars at all!” 

“You’re not my mom.” Mike’s voice turned wet as he lost his battle with his throat, voice cracking as he failed to choke the tears back.  

“No shit Wheeler.”  Steve said, and at least he was good enough not to call attention to Mike’s crying. 

If he had, Mike was pretty sure he’d just up and die of embarrassment, right there. 

“I don’t get why you care.” He muttered, angrily swiping at his eyes. 

“I didn’t keep you alive this long just so you could die of something stupid.” Steve countered easily.

Which was kinda fair, if you thought about it.

Mike very much did not want to think about it. 

Any of it.

Ever. 

“Are you gonna tell my parents?” He asked after a painfully long moment. 

Long enough that Steve had begun fiddling with the radio, trying to find a station as they drove back that wasn’t wailing country or gospel music. 

“I’m not a narc, so no.”  

“Not about the bar.”  

Now Steve just looked confused. 

Probably because he was, because he was without a doubt the stupidest almost adult Mike knew. 

(Not that he could say that out loud--last time he had, Max had made one of her pissy faces and then El got mad because Max was, which led to a break up, which led to Mike having to beg his way back into his girlfriend’s good graces while explaining that he hadn’t meant it like that.

“How did you mean it then?” Max demanded, and Mike wasn’t sure how he managed to dodge that entire conversation but he had, on grounds that untangling his own emotions regarding stupid Steve made him want to pull his hair out and scream.) 

“What about then?” 

 “You know. Don’t make me say it.” Mike absolutely didn’t plead, even if it did sort of, kind of, sound like pleading. 

Steve flicked his eyes away from the road to give one long, weird look at Mike. The same one he gave Dustin when he went off on a rant about Cerebro or Lucas when he started discussing the stats of different D&D weapons. 

Unlike those times, Steve’s face cleared. 

“Oh.” He said, blinking, and Mike could practically see the light bulb flash above his head.

Then; 

“Nah.” 

Mike waited.

And waited.

And kept waiting as Steve went back to searching through radio channels, as if that was the end of the conversation.

It couldn't be the end of this conversation.

Not when this was the part that was eating Mike alive.

He didn’t know if this was Steve repressing it on purpose or if this was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life if he kept trying to figure his own head out, but either way, he knew he had a choice to make. 

To let the unspoken part of today die quietly. Go unsaid, and remain unsaid, for all eternity--or he could let it out. 

Shove the “gay” part of “gay bar” in Steve’s stupid, jock face. 

Make him acknowledge it, even if it got Mike kicked out of the car, and who cared if it did? 

Steve wasn’t the person who should have picked him up anyway. 

The anger climbed higher and higher in his chest, tears and rage combining until Mike spat it all out, furious. 

“You’re not going to ask if I’m gay?”  

Steve didn’t turn to face him, but Mike saw his eyebrow cocking anyway, given how he was currently glaring a hole in the side of the older teen’s head. 

“Do you want me to?” 

“No.” Mike bit out automatically. “Yes. I don’t know!” 

Steve’s hand found its way back into his hair. 

“Okay then.” Steve paused, clearly fishing for something to say. 

Gleefully, Mike watched him struggle. 

“Do you like guys?” He managed finally, looking like he was navigating a minefield more than just talking.

“I don’t know.” Mike stressed, sinking lower in his seat. “Why do you think I was at the bar? I was trying to figure it out!” 

“Honestly I assumed this was some sort of stupid dare--but!” Steve held up a finger, before Mike could interrupt, “But let’s--shit, hold on, I had a speech for this but I kinda wasn’t expecting to use it this soon. Um.”

“You have a speech for me being gay?”

“Not for you.” Steve rolled his eyes. “For--in general! It was an in general, just in case speech!” 

He rounded on Mike, for longer than the younger was comfortable with given Steve took his eyes off the road to do it. “Okay--you can like boobies, you can like, uh--not boobies, and that’s fine! It’s all totally fine!” 

“You are not making it sound like it’s fine.” Mike said, feeling like he’d been taken out by hearing Steve say the word “boobies.” 

Gross, gross, gross. 

“Well it is.” Steve said, in a tone that felt like he was two seconds from adding in a smarmy ‘so there!’ at the end. 

“But I’m dating El.” Mike whined, which really, was both the heart of the matter and the eye of the storm that had been growing in his head for months now. “I can’t be gay if I like her.” 

“Don’t you guys break up and get together like four times a week?”

“No, that's Max and Lucas, El and I are stable.” Mike scoffed. “Or we--we were stable.” 

Before he started to have thoughts about people that weren't his girlfriend. 

Or women.

“Stable for being in middle school, sure.” Steve snorted. “You don’t just have to like one or the other you know. You can like dudes and chicks at the same time.”

Which Mike did not know, on account of being fourteen. 

He did his absolute damndest not to show that realization, instead adding that to the list of reasons why he hated Steve Harrington too.

Steve shouldn't be the one teaching him about who you could like!

“The point is that who you end up loving isn’t a problem.” Steve finally looked back to the road. “Other people might be an issue, and those people we can punch in the face so long as the cops aren’t looking, which isn’t part of the speech so let’s not tell people I said that part, but whatever you do choose, there’s nothing wrong with you.” 

Steve’s voice went firm, as he apparently recalled his speech or something close enough to it because his next words sounded a little rehearsed. “You have people who are here for you, no matter what. Okay?” 

Oh God, Mike was crying again. 

He wanted to punch Steve in his stupid face.

Wanted to hold onto the fury he'd built inside himself. Thrash around, throw himself out of the car, get away from the emotions that felt too big for his chest to contain. 

Instead he felt it all break on Steve's acceptance. On word's he didn't know he needed to hear until they'd been spoken, and sniffed out a quiet; “Okay.” 

Steve of course had to take it too far by reaching over and patting his knee, which they both regretted judging by how quickly Steve took his hand back and the face Mike made at his hand--but it…

It was appreciated, even amongst all Mike's rage.

Steve was appreciated. 

Not that Mike would ever, on pain of death, tell him that. 

Neither said a word for a while, Steve finally landing on a radio that was playing some Top 40 hit, Tears for Fears singing about ruling the world while Mike found himself trying to rebuild his own once again, tired of it having shattered so many times over. 

At least he finally felt better, even if he refused to admit Steve was the reason for it. 

He wasn’t quite done though.

 There was a piece Steve had skipped over, that Mike felt was critically important, if only because it was partly the reason he was having thoughts about being gay in the first place. 

He had to know if Steve saw it too. 

That it wasn’t just him and his stupid head, making up things that weren’t there. 

“Hey Steve?” 

“Yeah?”

“Who was the speech for?” 

Steve sighed. 

“Rule one of the whole queer thing Wheeler, you don’t out other people.” 

Like there were written rules or something.

(Maybe there were, it wasn't like Mike knew.)

“Was it Will?” Mike asked, and pretended like he didn’t desperately want the answer to be yes. 

 Steve didn’t say a thing, but the fact he nearly took the car off the road was a pretty solid answer in itself. 

“We’re not playing guessing games about other people’s sexualites!” He yelped, hands gripping the steering wheel as Mike felt a wave of relief crash through him. 

Will was--maybe, possibly, also--queer too. 

Which didn’t make this any better but it--wasn’t the not preferred outcome, either. 

(It wasn’t just Mike struggling alone, trying to figure out if his best friend wanted to be more than that, if El was breaking up with him and more and more because she wanted to be less than a girlfriend, if things were changing and he would have no one--) 

“I’m not out here picking Will up from a gay bar dipshit, I’m picking you up, and this is your reminder that next time, you should just come talk to me!” Steve ranted. 

Mike snorted.

He absolutely hated Steve Harrington, but--

“Fine.” He said, talking so low he could barely be heard. “I will.”

--maybe Mike did have someone in his corner after all. 

Even if it was just Steve. 

xXx

Bonus: 

“Between you and me, that kid is gayer than a two dollar bill.” 

“Wow Robin,” Steve teased, “Isn’t that like, a slur or whatever?” 

He snickered when she rolled her eyes and threw a roll of stickers his way. 

“I’m just saying. Did you see the way he was looking at you when you were showing off your stupid biceps?” Robin said, nudging her shoulder into Steve’s. “Will’s gonna have a rude awakening later if he hasn’t already.” 

Steve nudged her back, but kept his gaze on the Party as they trooped their way from Family Video to the arcade next door, the realization that they now had connections for free rentals making them downright gleeful. 

Will was the last one in, and Steve watched him hurry so as to not be left behind. 

He didn’t like to worry about the dipshits, but Robin was just putting voice to a thought Steve knew he wasn’t the first person to have.

And if he noticed it, then it didn't exactly bode well as being kept a secret. 

“Should we like…talk to him about that?” He asked after a long moment, turning to face Robin.

“Us?” She pointed at herself, before turning her finger on Steve. “Why us?” 

“Well you’re into girls.” He gave her a pointed look, glad that the store was empty of everyone but them so he could actually voice all this. “And I’m fine with it.”

“Yeah I’m sure he wants to know you’re fine with it.” Robin taunted, but she had her thinking face on, eyes out to the middle distance. “I barely know him. You barely know him--he’s the quietest out of all your kids.”

“They’re not my kids.” Steve argued automatically. “They're like a weird cross between shitty siblings and that kid in your class who never leaves you alone.” 

A fact Steve no longer took for granted, even if he made it sound like the worst thing ever.

“I just think it’d be nice if he knew that he had people in his corner, you know? Who supported him and shit.” 

“Steve, you compared my crush to a muppet, that wasn’t supportive.” Robin countered, but it too was on automatic. 

Softer she admitted; “You’re right though. If I had known other queer people, if I had known people would accept me...it would have made things a lot easier.”

A very long pause, in which both of them stewed for a moment, before Robin abruptly slapped her hand down on the table.

“Okay, you got me. We're doing it, and I'm making us a speech.”

“A speech?” 

“Yes dingus, a speech. I know you, you’re terrible when you’re put on the spot with this kinda thing, and trust me with things like this the moment will be spontaneous.”

“It’s Will, how spontaneous can it be?” Steve challenged back. “Getting a dinner order out of him is a chore.” 

“Stop whining and hand me that notepad. Im telling you its gonna happen when you least expect it and then you're gonna thank me later.”

“It better not happen without you.”  Steve sighed, but passed the notepad over.

God the things he did for those stupid kids. 

Bonus x2

Steve would later go on to use the speech on himself, in a gas station bathroom mirror, eyes wide and freaked out after Eddie Munson called him Big Boy in a van they stole, while Robin snickered behind him. 

He would turn on her, snapping that she; “Help me with this dammit!” 

In return she’d remind him that Tammy might sing like a muppet but Eddie  was the guy who stepped on lunches while giving speeches at lunch and sticking his tongue out, and “Really Steve, I think I won best gay awakening, here.” 

Which would promptly start an argument regarding how it wasn’t a competition, which would continue for another fifteen or so odd years before finding its way as a reference into both of their speeches as each other’s best man. 

Nancy and Eddie wouldn’t get it at either wedding, but Mike would.