#sailing✧harrington charms hellfire

[sailing-through-hawkins]

i got a much bigger response to my Harrington Charms Hellfire post than i expected so i wrote a little something that was along the lines of what i was thinking!

Part 1 ✧ Part 2 ✧ Part 3 ✧ Part 4 ✧ AO3

Sometimes Eddie thinks the real Upside-Down is his life after they close up the gates and pulverize Vecna ("they" in this situation being superhero Jane Hopper and the rest of her merry band of warriors), because past-Eddie would probably have a breakdown over...well, everything.

For one thing, Eddie is currently in the passenger seat of none other than Steve Harrington's Beemer, at the man's very request himself.

"Wait, I'll drop you off."

"'Preciate the thought, Steve but -"

"Munson. It's been like two weeks since you even started walking by yourself, sorry if I'm kinda worried about letting you go across town without me."

"Uh...just you?"

"Any of us, but me specifically since I'm clearly everyone's chauffeur. Might as well play the role, right?"

It's been like a month and every time Eddie wants to go anywhere in the slowly rebuilding town, Steve's right there with him. It'd be infuriating if it wasn't so obvious he liked doing it. If Steve wasn't so intent on just making sure Eddie's alright and yeah the mother-henning should have gotten old by now but if Eddie even thinks about telling him to stop, all he sees is sad eyes and hunched shoulders hiding under a complacent smile and wave bye-bye. God those eyes are fucking weapons.

They're heading over to Gareth's garage for a light-hearted band session. It's funny because Dustin was the one who convinced Eddie to "get your head out of your ass and talk to your friends, dick" and actually reach out to the rest of Hellfire about the whole 'not a murderer OR dead' thing. After some apologizing (ugh) and grovelling (double ugh), the rest of his sheep were willing to forgive him for ignoring their calls and visits while he was in recovery. Provided, of course, that he continue to check in with them on a bi-weekly basis at minimum. It's unfortunate that Steve, for all his head trauma, makes sure that Eddie actually sticks to that basis.

The things he does for love.

Or no, not love, definitely not love, it is way too fucking soon to call this teensy little infatuation anything as huge as love. No. Not love at all.

They're about to reach Gareth's place, that's important. By the time Steve rolls to a stop outside the garage, Eddie's panic (not panic, just a strong argument, this is not love) has simmered down. He has to take his time getting out of the car today, thank whatever deity is out there for quick-feet Steve, who runs around the front to help Eddie out onto his two feet. It's been a rough week but he had way worse back in that first month at the hospital, not to mention needing a little Steve-assistance isn't the worst thing in the world.

"Hey!"

Eddie blinks as Steve helps him lean against the car, the spots in his vision fading away to reveal Gareth right up in his space with a murderous gaze directed right at Steve.

Eddie worries that he's gonna start a fight even though it's been months since he's introduced Steve as his live-in-nurse (nobody takes Eddie's hints at a sexy nurse uniform to heart thankfully, he doesn't know what he'd do if Steve caught on that he's only half-joking) and Steve's been doing the best he can to make amends with Hellfire.

At least the guys aren't walking on eggshells around him anymore, judging by how Gareth barely took a glance to assess Eddie's wellbeing before going back to glaring at Steve with eyes ready to kill. Well fuck you too Gareth.

He crosses his arms, eyes burning with resentment as he continues go stare down a pretty nonchalant Steve who is very much in Eddie's space as he also leans against the car, fuck he's so close. When Eddie glances at him to scope out what the fuck is happening, he sees that gaze again. The gaze that reminds Eddie of Steve's days as King, looking over his reigning population with a boredom teetering on malicious negligence. That gaze used to send Eddie's mind into hysterics, painting images of crowding into the King's space just to see those big brown eyes waver. But that's not how it is anymore, Steve's eyes are usually brimming with concern, irritation or a spark of contentment as he watches his little nuggets run around screaming about Eddie's latest one-shot campaign.

Right now, there's no screaming teenagers. It's just silence for a few moments, a tension building in Eddie's bones until he thinks this must be what it's like to watch a sports match, head running back-and-forth between the two teams and waiting with baited breath.

"So?" Gareth spits out, squinting at Steve, just tilts his head in response and lets a few strands of perfect fall into his eyes, damn that bastard. Gareth grits his teeth and takes a breath, "What did you think?"

Steve watches Gareth, as if assessing his line delivery, shifting so he fully faces him but is still totally in Eddie's space with a hand on the car roof behind Eddie and the other crooked up on Steve's hip. The motion lets Eddie smell his aftershave and fuck, Steve still runs so warm. Whatever he finds in Gareth has to be what he wants because he gives them both a half-lidded smirk and shrugs his shoulders. "Eh, wasn't that into it."

Gareth sputters, face turning crimson and Eddie is like super confused because what the fuck is going on right now? 

Steve is the one to fully break his brain with a laugh that throws his head back, his neck stretching out so the light hits his jawline perfectly, that bastard. He looks back at Gareth's flushed face with a sunny grin that sets fire to Eddie's veins. "You totally liked it, didn't you?"

Eddie snaps his head to Gareth, who squirms before dropping his shoulders. His little mutter of, "Yeah, I did," sounds so defeated that Eddie feels a second-hand guilt, but over what? He has no fucking clue.

That small pit of guilt quickly dissolves into even more confusion when Steve laughs again, kicking himself off his car to land a hand on Gareth's shoulder and fucking wink at Eddie. "The miracle of Grease, huh Munson?"

Record-scratch. Sorry, what?

"Sorry, what?" Eddie snaps his eyes from the grinning god that is Steve and the sulking fluster that is a member of his club, one of his friends, one of his very overprotective sheep who has hated Steve's guts for a long time and is now letting the guy give him a fucking noogie in broad daylight with empty complaints.

"Looks like I've been corrupting your crew, Eds, if Gary being a Greaser -"

"I am NOT a Greaser, I just -"

Gary? Steve calls Gareth the Great...Gary? And he doesn't even comment on it? Last time Jeff tried that, Gareth threatened to hide a spider in his guitar case. But Steve Harrington, someone Gareth has had no qualms about verbally tearing apart, does it and it's fine?

"Eds? Hey, Eddie." And now Steve's looking at him with that concern-rotten gaze, eyes flitting over every inch of Eddie's face as if to pinpoint what's wrong and fix it with a smile and a soft you're okay now, I've got you. "Back with me?"

Swallowing down an incessant I'm always with you, sweetheart, Eddie nods. In his peripheral, Gareth is watching him with his hands out as if to catch Eddie from falling. Which is stupid because Eddie hasn't fallen from light-headedness in like two days (Eddie shuts up the part of his brain that reminds him Gareth wouldn't know that with a part that says Dustin probably gives the whole club daily medical chart updates) and wait fuck is that Steve's hand on his neck right now?

"So!" Eddie claps his hands, eye twitching as Steve's hand slowly trails to his shoulder, lingering for a moment before he takes it off entirely. Stupid jock bastard with his touchy-ness and his smile and - "What's this I hear about Grease, Gary?"

Oh yeah, there's that livid face of watch out for the tarantula bitch, Eddie's missed that. Well, Gareth still does it everyday but not at Eddie for a while there, probably because of the whole intensive injury recovery shit. Oh well. "None of your -"

"Gareth and I made a bet," Steve clamps his hand back onto Gareth to shove them closer together, pointedly ignoring Gareth glare of betrayal. The space on the back of Eddie's neck still burns with the ghost of Steve's touch, something ugly in his chest snarling at how that touch is now on Gareth's arm. He wonders if the bats left him with more than bites sometimes. "About some movies we recommended each other. And since I won, that means -"

"No way, I'm not -"

"Uh yeah you are, I won so -"

"Fuck you, Harrington -"

"Not on the first date, hotshot," Steve laughs as Gareth tries wrangling out of his hold, holding onto him by his shoulders with one gloriously bulging forearm. Eddie's starting to think the light-headedness might be a symptom of something other than his brush with the bats. Oh don't think about the bats, bad move, bad move. "Didn't know you raised a cheater, Eddie."

Steve's eyes are glowing with mirth, his grin wide as Gareth threatens to bite him with a smile of his own. And that's. Huh?

"And I didn't know you two were so close," Eddie manages to cough out, snapping his gaze to Gareth with a raised eyebrow. He squirms again, ducking out of Steve's grasp (Eddie can't imagine why anyone would want to) and dusting off his shirt. "Holding out on me, Harrington?"

Steve shrugs, his eyes fixating right next to Eddie's eyes. He steps closer, a firm and warm presence right in Eddie's space, right in front of him, and raises a hand to caress Eddie's hair, that fucker. Eddie stifles his gasp because he knows Steve's just getting something out of his hair, like he does every goddamn time he sees a leaf or dust or fucking anything in Eddie's mass of curls. "Just being friendly. Now giddy up, you two've got a session to do."

"Not sticking around?" Gareth looks back at the garage, the forced nonchalance in his tone nothing compared to the shadow of King Steve's gaze. "Frank wanted to ask you about those threads from last week."

"Shit," Steve slapped his forehead, looking into the garage at Frankie who - fucking waves at them?! Mr. "Do what you want but I'm never falling for that Harrington charm bullshit" is waving at Steve. Who, incidentally, waves back with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Frankie, I can't make it today, got a shift with the supply run! Rain check on the wardrobe?"

And Frank the Unwavering, notorious for sticking to his guns with a grip tight enough to choke a man, gives Steve a thumbs up before going back to strumming with Jeff. What the fuck.

"Wardrobe?" Eddie chokes.

"Don't worry about it," Steve waves a hand in the air and gently pulls Eddie off the car, settling his arm around Gareth, who takes Eddie's weight with ease. "I'll tell you later. You'll be good to take him, or should I?"

Gareth scoffs but his eyebrows aren't scrunched with any irritation or anger. "I think I can handle it, Harrington. Go handle your hero shit."

And here's the thing. Steve has a thing about that word. Eddie's noticed because, well, he's always watching Steve and he has a rocky relationship with the word "hero." Sometimes his whole body glows with the praise, smile so wide and eyes so sparkly it makes Eddie want to scream. Other times, Steve shrinks just a little, barely noticeable, and his smile dims and his eyes are shadowed with something Eddie doesn't understand. Or can't understand. He's not sure.

This time, Steve seems to be on the glowing side of things but it's so subtle compared to usual that Eddie just has to blink and all that golden haze is gone already. He blinks again and Steve's waving bye to him, blinks and Steve's in his car, blinks and he's driving back on the road to wherever people need him to be.

Gareth snorts, tugging Eddie out of his daze and shuffling them both toward the sofa at the back of the garage, the brown beauty it is. "Wipe the drool, man, you're getting it all over my hair."

"Oh like you're one to talk," Eddie waits until Gareth settles him on the sofa and fully stands up before fluttering his eyelashes up at him. "Gary."

"Shut up!" Gareth flushes, stomping over to his (barely holding together, but Eddie likes to think they're made of the same stuff Steve is, to keep going after a fucking averted apocalypse) drums. Jeff laughs when he fumbles with his sticks and Eddie grins when Gareth's attempt at throwing them lands the fuckers right at Frank and that sets them all off.

Yeah, maybe some stuff has turned on its head, Steve and the town and Eddie's general worldview, but he's still got his inner circle and that's good enough for him.

[evilkaeya]

Summer came with you

Just a little steddie drabble I wrote part 1(?)

Summer was back again, back in Hawkins, back to make Steve’s days busier than ever. The wave of customers at Scoops Ahoy didn’t halt for a second in the summer.

So yes, summer was here again, whether he liked it or not.

“Hey there sailor! Mind if I sail with you today?”

And so was Eddie Munson apparently. Eddie Munson, the kids’ DnD club leader. Eddie Munson, the guitarist of Corroded Coffin. Eddie Munson, the guy Dustin won’t shut up about.

Eddie, with his pretty brown eyes and bright smiles.

Eddie who was also the cause of Steve’s heartache and missing heartbeats, the endless static in his head when their eyes meet.

Steve never cared much for the guy, hell, he didn’t even know him until 4 months ago. He only knew him as Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson as everyone called until Dustin asked, no, practically begged him to come to hellfire night because Lucas bailed again. Steve reluctantly said yes only because he couldn't say no to the kids when he knew how much this club meant to them.

So yes, he didn’t care for him at all until Eddie called him princess on their first meeting, complimented his hair and then told him his taste in music was so awful that it could probably kill a man. He didn’t, until he saw how much fun the kids were having with him, how much he cared for these kids. How he’d taken them under his wing.

That night, Steve became friends with Eddie.

And with friendship, came emotions. Uninvited, complicated emotions. Emotions that he only managed to sort out thanks to Robin and her wise words, ‘People can like both genders, Steve. You can like both girls and guys.’

So yes Steve Harrington, the king of charm and popularity had a crush on Eddie Munson, the metalhead dnd nerd, as crazy as it sounded.

These days it was starting to feel like it might be more than just a crush.

“You again, Munson?” he said, looking back into the guy’s beaming brown eyes.

“That’s right,” Eddie spread his arm a little, a grin appearing on his face and Steve felt like his heart was melting a little, just like ice creams in summer, “me again baby!”

Again, with the pet names. They were going to be the death of him one day.

Here lies Steve Harrington. Cause of death: Eddie calling him cute pet names.

“What do you want?”

“I’d like a chocolate fudge–” and Steve was already picking up the scooper. They had more customers coming. He couldn’t just stand here awestruck by Eddie all day, “-sample.”

Steve glared at him. Of course he just wanted a sample. Eddie Munson came and tried ice creams and bothered Steve more than he actually bought ice creams. Steve shook his head and grabbed a spoon instead and scooped up some chocolate fudge before handing it to Eddie who took it happily, his smile never faltering.

Then he put it in his mouth, of course he did, that’s what sampling was, and Steve was not staring. No, he wasn’t. He definitely wasn’t staring when Eddie finished it, poked his tongue out a little and licked off a bit of ice cream that somehow managed to reach his bottom lip.

He needed a cold shower. Right now.

“I wanna try it again,” Eddie said once he was finished.

“You just tried it.”

“Well, I didn’t get the taste properly,” he smiled up at him, “I need to try again.”

“Eddie,” Steve folded his arms against his chest. He knew he was fighting a losing battle here but he wasn’t going to give up without trying.

“Come on, you let that Sinclair kid and her friends try it dozens of times,” Eddie exclaimed.

“Exactly. Erica is a kid and she can be very– persistent,” Steve said, “you on the other hand, you’re an adult.”

“And yet you’ve let me try all the flavors more than once everyday for the last two weeks so who’s the real winner here darling?”

“You’re the worst,” he concluded, as he got another spoon and let him try the chocolate fudge, again. God, love was going to be the doom of him.

“You love me,” Eddie countered as he took the spoon and immediately put it in his mouth again.

“In your dreams,” Steve replied, lied actually and Eddie only smirked at him before someone called him from behind. His bandmates. They were waving at him and Eddie was already moving away, finally letting the person behind him come forward. The girl looked pissed.

Oops. 

“The boys are here, gotta go,” Eddie said, completely unbothered by the angry customer who glared up at him, “Try not to miss me too much Stevie!” and he was running back to his group.

Eddie waved at him once more before he joined his friends and that was enough to leave Steve Harrington smiling for the rest of the day.

[sailing-through-hawkins]

Part 1 ✧ Part 2 ✧ Part 3 ✧ Part 4 (finale) of Harrington Charms Hellfire ✧ AO3

Sometimes Steve thinks the real Upside-Down is his life before any of it really happened, before the demogorgon, before Will going missing, before he ever even met Robin, because that life feels like such a distant memory it might as well be a completely different person's.

In the moments between all the chaos and yelling and laughing, when everyone's quiet and like, content? It hits him harder than any punch (obviously not any punch given all his experience with getting them, but he's allowed to exaggerate when he has Dustin, Robin, Erica and Eddie being dramatic as possible around him every single day) that this wasn't always his life.

He didn't always know the best way to bribe Dustin was by offering to take him to the diner with the most expensive fucking fries but totally worth the price.

He didn't always answer the phone to find Erica calling him up for another round of ice cream at the Sinclairs' while she goes on and on about how Chelsea has betrayed her by cozying up to Valerie after they already made a pact about it.

He didn't always have Robin gently reminding him about people's names and their plans for the week and what he had that morning because fuck, did he have breakfast? Robin, what - ("We had pancakes and that gross syrup you buy even though I keep telling you it's not sweet enough, which means I have to use like half the bottle in one go -")

It's pretty weird to think about. That all of that is some kind of after instead of an always. It's nice.

He could do without the repeated banging on his front door though. Like why do none of his people know how to knock?

"Ready to have your mind blown, Stevie?" Eddie Munson stands outside his house with a wide grin and guitar hanging over his back like a weapon. It kind of is, in some ways.

"Get in here, jackass," Steve rolls his eyes as Eddie cackles his way through the door and straight to the couch in the sunroom ("What does that even mean, sunroom? Who has a sunroom?! If it's facing the pool, shouldn't it be the poolroom? Give me answers, whoever constructed this hellish house!") without so much as a hug. He shuts the door and trails after the madman. "What, no 'hi Steve, nice to see you, thanks for letting me come over'?"

Eddie whips around with a manic grin and wild eyes. "Haven't you heard? Chivalry is dead, sweetheart."

He has such pretty eyes, Steve thinks idly as Eddie carefully takes off his guitar and jumps into the couch, the kind he really likes looking at in moments of peace and quiet. Sometimes they go big and wide and Eddie pulls a lock of hair over his mouth, but that doesn't hide the way his whole face flushes pink when Steve really leans in.

It's not something he actually knows about Eddie, but Steve does know that he - well, he likes Eddie.

"You said he was glaring at Frank after he gave you that Star Trek thing."

"I mean yeah, but that could have been for anything, maybe they fought before I came 'round or something."

"Hmm, true, but I am personally inclined to the idea that he was jealous."

"You just want to make fun of him."

"Absolutely I do."

Steve shakes his head and walks over to knock Eddie on his head, laughing when he immediately pouts up at him. "It's lunchtime, Munson, and we agreed to eat first before you pull me into one of your 'artist moments'."

Gasping, Eddie immediately launches into the same lecture he does every time Robin makes fun of how focused he is while writing out a campaign idea ("Can you believe we used to know nothing about this stuff? And now it's like, saved our lives and we play it every other week. Who even are we?"). Steve walks on to the kitchen as Eddie raves behind him and doesn't even bother pushing down the fondness in his chest, the fondness he knows is written all over his face.

Yeah, Steve and Robin are pretty sure he's like, totally in love with Eddie at this point. It probably should be a bigger deal than it is but honestly, a couple years surviving another apocalypse and being distrustful of most authority figures (including but not at all exclusive to the American fucking government) really puts that kinda shit into perspective.

"Robin, how do you ask a guy out?"

"Gee, that's a great question, I hope I never have to find out."

"...you were the wrong person to ask this."

"No shit, Stevie."

So yeah, Steve's in love with Eddie Munson and the whole world's gonna know about it.

Because he has a plan.

Step one: get the guy to come over for lunch - easily accomplished once Steve promises to make his pizza casserole, a Buckley-exclusive recipe until today (with said Buckley's approval of course, because it's the fanciest thing Steve can do without fucking up like three times in a row).

Step two: use said lunch as a way to make easy conversation and settle nerves - already in action, just need to get his oven mitts on first.

"Oh my god," Eddie moans when Steve pulls the casserole out of the oven, the melted cheese and crusted pasta looking delicious, way to go, Harrington. "Oh fuck, that smells so fucking good, oh my god."

Steve laughs, quickly setting the dish down and poking it with a fork so his face has time to cool down. "Buckley approved and Munson sanctioned, huh?"

"Jesus Christ, let me at it -" Eddie reaches for the dish, hands squeezing mid-air before Steve slaps them both, mitts and all. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"Have some fucking patience, man." Steve sets the casserole onto the trivet ("Our latest word of the week!") and carries the whole thing to the dining room. He calls out behind him before Eddie can even walk, "And bring over the plates from the sink, they're clean."

"No shit!" Eddie calls back and Steve just laughs again when he walks into the dining room with the plates held up over his head, knees and arms bending awkwardly like he's some sort of gangly creature with zero limb coordination. He sets down the plates with a bow and in a weird voice croaks, "Your plates, my liege."

Steve looks at the gremlin of a man in front of and his heart beats once, twice, saying 'yes, this one, this one too, please.'

"Okay, Smeagol," he snorts and jumps when Eddie smacks his shoulder. "Dude, what the hell, I'm -"

"Since when do you read Lord of the Rings?!" Eddie smacks his shoulder again when he rolls his eyes. "That reference is way too obscure for you to just know!"

The casserole is firm enough that he can lift a piece to a nearby plate with zero casualties, but he still doesn't take his eyes off it for a second. "Dustin and Lucas talk about it all the time, even Max does the whole 'my precious' thing. It's not that obscure."

"Steve Harrington," Eddie shakes his head and Steve sighs when both plates are set, the rest of the casserole intact. "You are something else, man."

When Steve turns around, he's struck by how fond Eddie's eyes are, staring at him, smiling at him, sweet and soft. It's heady, makes him smile back, makes him forget every step of his plan, makes him lean in. Eddie doesn't flinch, eyes fixed on him, but does inhale sharply when Steve takes his hand, slowly settling his fingers between Eddie's until they're holding hands warmly, gently, lovely.

"Steve?" Eddie murmurs, eyes flitting all over Steve's face like he's tracking every spot, mole and freckle he can find.

And that right there is what gives Steve the courage to say, "Look, I -"

Brrrrrrng!

Which is exactly why the doorbell rings. Because when Steve is brave, the universe just has to keep pushing him to find the limit of his patience too. God damn it.

"Be right back," he sighs, letting go of Eddie's hand to pat him on the shoulder with a weak smile. Eddie doesn't seem to mind, staring down at his hand like it has the answers to the universe. He walks to the door when the doorbell rings yet again. "Don't start without me."

Eddie doesn't reply and Steve sighs again, opening the door with a tilted head at whoever - "Harrington!"

Steve blinks and tilts his head even more. "Frankie? What's up, man?"

"It's time to discuss." Frank stands tall in his doorway, holding up what looks like a giant roll of paper under his arm. Steve doesn't even want to know what the plastic bag in his hand has. Frank glances around, as if there's anybody else out here, and his voice drops to a whisper. "We need a plan on how you're going to woo Eddie."

Eyes widening, Steve quickly shuts the door and shoves Frank away from the entrance ("I may have the pointy elbows but you've got the strong arms, so together our jabs would be like unstoppable!") . He glances back at the house, relieved when Eddie doesn't come shooting out at the very sensitive information. "What the hell, dude?"

"Listen to me," Frank continues, leaning against Steve's car as if he's not being cornered, setting Steve's teeth on a grind. "Procrastinating this is not the solution, and if you really want to court him properly -"

"Do you have to say it like that?!" Steve runs a hand through his hair. He should have known this would happen and he still got cocky. Fuck. "Look, this is stupid, I'm -"

"Strategy is never stupid, Harrington," Frank seethes, poking his chest harshly. Fuck, what's his deal with using last names anyway? "You want to ask Eddie out, so you asked Hellfire for aid. And our aid is about coordination, patience and a step-by-step tactical journey that includes failsafes for every occasion."

"Oh joy," Steve snorts. He crosses his arms and leans on one leg ("You're the one who said it's our bitchiest move! Besides, it always works, doesn't it?"), eyebrows raised high. "Look, I appreciate the help, but considering the fact that I've literally got Eddie in my house right now, I think I'm doing just fine."

"He's what?!" Frank's smug face turns pale and he whips a glance at the house before slapping Steve's arm with a hiss. "And you're mentioning this only now?! I had to take a bus here man!"

"Ow!" Steve glares back, rubbing the spot. It's basically nothing, barely a sting, but he feels the need to make a show of it to prove a point ("Oh my god, you have been hanging out with Eddie too much, he's infected you - fight it, Stevie! Only you and I can infect each other!"). "I would have said it earlier if someone hadn't -"

"Shh!" Frank rudely smacks Steve's arm again, the prick, and gives a...nervous smile to the house?

"What -" Steve turns around to find Eddie's glare through the window before it quickly turns to surprise and disappears. Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, god fucking damn it. "Okay, well, this conversation is over because now I need to do damage control before any wooing."

Frank nods with a wince. "Perhaps...I could have called first."

"Perhaps," Steve mocks before letting out a laugh and patting Frankie's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, man, I'll just tell him you were trying to start another fight about the tribbles and fuzzies."

"It's a valid -"

"Frankie," Steve says sternly and watches amusedly when Frank deflates.

He still squints and pokes Steve's chest again. "Next time. You owe me the bus fare. Twice."

"Bring food over," Steve calls out as Frank starts to walk away. "I'm not cooking for you if I have to pay!"

"Eat shit, Harrington!"

And Steve laughs and laughs because he finally feels so light after all this time. With a sigh, he makes his way back to the house, startling when Eddie's face in the window makes another appearing-disappearing act.

Huh.

Well, in Eddie's defense, it's pretty suspicious that Frank came over with a roll of paper and bag of markers, right?

"Eds?" Steve walks in, a smile growing when he sees Eddie lying on the stairs in the most unnatural position possible, stretched out with one hand holding up his head and his leg crooked up on the other knee. He lets out a laugh when Eddie blinks at him. "Comfortable?"

"One hundred percent," Eddie croaks, sliding down the stairs, Jesus it's like he's made of liquid, until he's a pouting puddle on the floor. "Why'd Frank come over? I didn't tell him I was here."

"Eh," Steve shrugs, holding out a hand and, when he takes it in his own, pulling Eddie up. "Thought he could finally prove his conspiracy theory about the tribbles again."

Eddie doesn't reply, eyes flickering down to their hands, warm and connected. Steve purposefully doesn't make a remark or snatch his hand away the way the small, dark corner of his brain is insisting he should ("I think it's time we both stop listening to our dark corners, huh? I'll be your light if you'll be mine."), casually making his way back to the dining room. Something glows in his chest when Eddie's hand squeezes just enough for him to feel, before Steve squeezes back and lets it go so he can pull out a chair.

"Ready to have your tastebuds blown away?"

With a gulp and a very quick shake, Eddie grins at him before dropping into the chair. He squirms around until he settles, legs stretched out and hands behind his head, looking up at Steve with that same, wide grin. "I'm always ready for a Harrington Feast."

"Ew," Steve wrinkles his nose as he gently pushes the chair in, making his way over to the one directly opposite Eddie. "Yeah no, we're not doing that."

"But Harrington Habits -"

"I'm going to punch Gareth next time he says that," Steve grumbles. "I don't care how many movies he wants to try out."

It's honestly a little flattering how quickly Gareth warmed up to Steve after the whole 'Grease' thing, hell, the kid even asked (very angrily and with zero eye contact) if Steve knew how to style his hair to look like Danny Zuko's a couple weeks back. Steve had to take a minute before agreeing but then had to coax him out of the look when it very clearly wasn't working, and offered to help him look for a jacket like Danny's instead.

Nobody knows why or when exactly Hellfire started to mellow out against Steve ("I can't believe all it took was some music, movies and cookies, I'm gonna lose my mind! We should try getting Mrs Byers to invite us for dinner with that charm of yours."). Mike still suspects it started after he offered to host their next game night (they didn't take him up on the offer but Eddie barely took his big shiny eyes off him for the rest of the evening, so it was totally worth asking) but Dustin claims he just wore them down with his "- dad energy, Steve, I had to stop you from wearing your fanny pack to the pool."

Excuse him, Dustin, if El might need tissues in case of a nosebleed or if Robin gets another papercut on something that isn't even paper and needs a band-aid or -

Oh.

Oh god, he's the goddamn babysitter by instinct now, fuck.

"Steve," Eddie says as solemnly as he can with a giant piece of baked macaroni in his mouth. "This is fucking heaven."

Trying his best not to preen, Steve smiles and nods as he takes another bite. But apparently, Eddie isn't finished.

"No, seriously, this is like, if an angel stuffed liquid gold into my hands and told me I could chug it. I'm not even -"

"Dude," Steve laughs. "What does that even mean?"

"You think I know?!" Eddie says, his lips twitching like he's holding back his own laugh. "I'm just the messenger here!"

He doesn't know how they made it through lunch because Eddie kept pulling out stories and jokes that got Steve laughing so hard, he literally choked and needed five minutes just to breathe normally again ("Come on, Stevie, keep breathing for me, match me, come on, don't make me panic too -"). It's like he was doing his best to make Steve lose his shit.

Which.

Huh.

Interesting thought to come back to later, because step two has been completed.

On to step three: clean up lunch together as an excuse to be physically close and make some gentle, casual touches.

Casual, because outright holding his hand might be jumping ahead ("I feel like our impulse control gets better when we're together. Wha - that doesn't count, we were high off surviving the apocalypse and she was very pretty!"), and Steve definitely doesn't want to scare Eddie off.

"I am no coward!" Eddie declares, shoving his hands straight into the sink and under the running water as he turns his nose up at Steve. "If the dishes need be done, then they shall be done, good sir, so sweareth I, noble -"

"Oh my god, just start washing, y'goose," Steve lightly shoves at his shoulder and no surprise that step three is already going well, he's just that good at strategy, thanks Frankie. He picks up the already-washed cup and uses the towel he slapped onto his own shoulder to dry it off. "I don't know how you keep pulling those monologues out of nowhere like that."

"Observation, imitation and practice," Eddie says smugly, wiggling in place as he works on the plates. "It's not all pure talent, y'know, I gotta work at it."

"Ha ha," Steve rolls his eyes, barely able to keep his smile in. He nudges Eddie's shoulder once, lets him nudge back, does it again and repeat, until he just lets his shoulder rest against Eddie's. "Thanks for coming over, man."

"'S no problem," Eddie lightly shrugs his other shoulder. "I...like hanging out. With you."

Steve pauses. There's no "I know, crazy right?" or "The Hair and the Freak, who'da thunk?" or "But don't get sappy on me!" that follows.

There's just him and Eddie, side-to-side. There's gentle sunlight streaming in through the window and it makes his rings shine and there's -

"Eddie, what the fuck, you didn't take your rings off?!"

Without a second thought, Steve grabs his hands out of the water and immediately does a headcount (or is it a ringcount? Whatever, doesn't matter), drying off Eddie's hands with the not-damp side of the towel. None of them got lost ("You keep track of his rings? Stevie - no, that's different, stop turning your gay - sorry - bisexual pining on me!"), so he carefully dabs at them to let the shine through.

That's when it occurs to him that there is, in fact, a person attached to these rings.

Ah.

"I, uh -" Steve coughs. "If you're gonna help with the dishes - I mean, we wouldn't wanna lose any of these, right?"

Peeking up at Eddie, who's entire face is flushed pink, staring straight ("Haha, straight. What? Let me have this -") at him, Steve feels something roll through under his skin, making him stand taller, making his face relax, making him feel like - (You can do this, dingus. I believe in you.")

"Here," Steve says softly, pulling a ring off Eddie's pointer finger slowly, waiting for a refusal. When he peeks back up at Eddie, he's still frozen, wide eyed and blinking repeatedly. He gently pulls off the ring from his middle and ring fingers, and holds the silver collection up in the palm of his hand. "Keep them safe."

Frozen, Eddie doesn't say anything.

"Eddie?" It's impossible to hold back his smirk at this point, even harder not to let it widen when Eddie's eyes snap to his lips. "Did you want me to keep them?"

Before he can put them in his pocket, Eddie snatches them out of his hand and shoves the rings into his own pocket, the noise of clacking metal apparently breaking the spell. He squeaks out an, "All good, Stevie!" and quickly goes back to the sink to shove his hands under the water.

See, that would normally hurt, the idea that Steve's touch needed - needed to be washed off. But he saw Eddie's eyes, his expression whenever Steve touches his skin. That's not disgust.

Nah, that's not disgust at all actually.

Steve smiles as he watches Eddie curse when he almost drops a fork, hair bouncing against the sunlight so prettily. He lightly glides up behind Eddie, gathering the curls together, humming when Eddie freezes again.

"Uh -"

"Can I tie it up?"

Eddie seems to take a moment. "Sure," he says quietly.

Continuing to hum, Steve runs a hand through Eddie's hair, coaxing away any little tangles and knots. It's nice to see he's been keeping up with the new routine he and Mike have started together, even if it took Robin's horror stories of hair damage (which were definitely exaggerated just so she could see Mike's face) to get them to think about it. Once he's got all of Eddie's hair held up, he takes his time getting a hair tie out of his back pocket ("What if I need one and I forget? Or Erica? Or Max? Or -") so that he can stare at the nape of his neck, pale but littered with little pink scars.

How pretty can one guy be? Every little part of him, every expression, every -

And then the phone rings.

What the hell.

"For the record," Steve says before he finally ties up Eddie's hair into a bun that hangs low on his head. He starts slowly stepping away and out of the kitchen. "I like hanging out with you too, Eddie."

Speed walking his way to the phone, Steve lets it ring a few more times, taking in quiet and deep breaths because holy shit, did he just do that? He just did that ("I can't believe you fucking did that, oh my god. I mean - I always believed in you!").  With a grin and a glow in his chest that spreads across his veins like some kind of magic high, he answers the phone.

"Harrington Residence -"

"Steve!" Jeff's voice sounds winded and his heartbeat is already racing fast.

"What's wrong, are you okay?" His blood on fire, ready to hit back, where're the bad guys, his axe, where's his axe -

Jeff swallows a deep breath. "Yeah, no, yeah, yeah I'm fine. I wanted to warn you about Frank."

Steve blinks, moves the phone away to stare at it, before putting it back to his ear. "Why, what did he do?"

"He said he was coming over to help with that thing even though you said you'd handle it, and I know you're meeting up with you-know-who so like, be alert."

His eye is twitching. Fuck, he better not be getting a headache today, it's his day off to chill for once, he deserves better than this. "He already came by, dude. He just left like an hour ago."

Jeff swears colorfully enough that it relieves the tension of Steve's shoulders when he laughs. "That motherfucker lied to me, he said he was coming by for dinner."

"He probably knew you were gonna warn me," Steve grins as quiet sounds of plates and cupboards echo out from the kitchen. "Why are you even warning me anyways? I mean I know I backtracked but it was pretty neat of him to try helping out anyways.

"'Pretty neat' he says. God, Harrington, you're such a dad," Jeff teases and it's one of those rare times the joke makes Steve laugh without shame.

Out of everyone in Steve's life, Jeff is one of few who don't make Steve feel so bad about wanting a big family ("Platonic soulmates excluded, of course, right?"). Maybe it's because he gets it, especially after Trey had moved out so quickly. He gets how a house can be lonely without a bunch of family filling up the space.

Jeff hesitates. "Like I said, I know you wanted some alone time today." His voice softens to a murmur and Steve can't help but run a hand through his hair, fidgeting with a lock at the back of his neck. It's getting so long now. It makes him think of Eddie's nape, warm and so pale against the black of his hair but still so alive. "You said you were gonna make a move."

"I -" Steve blows out a breath, cupping his own neck and staring out the window into the greenery outside. The sunlight really does make everything look so much warmer. Alive. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. Today, actually."

"That's great!" Jeff whispers excitedly and Steve just laughs again. "Shit, okay, I should let you get back to it then. I'll phone Wayne for your check-in too, good luck man!"

"Thanks, Jeff. That...means a lot." Steve smiles. "Talk to you later."

Setting the phone against the wall ("You think you're so fancy with your wall phone, Harrington?! ...Yeah, you are, it's pretty cool actually. Should we crank call Hopper or would that be like, a crime?") feels like a weight's been lifted off his shoulders. Alive, safe, well.

The approval of Eddie's friends isn't exactly something he'd expected to want or to get really, but they keep surprising him. Even Wayne's been really supportive of Steve in general, always trusting him to take care of their people, even if he does ask everyone to check-in with him whenever Eddie visits. Sometimes the paranoia doesn't lift up and Steve definitely isn't going to give the man grief about it when he understands.

With a nod, Steve turns back to the kitchen and stops when he sees Eddie, who quickly stumbles back on the kitchen door when he tries hiding.

"Ow." Eddie rubs his elbow with a wince. He quickly hops along the wall to get to the sun room. "Pay no attention to the man behind - uh - out of the kitchen?"

"Eddie," Steve laughs as he follows, the panic of hurt, he's hurt, find him, bring him home, keep him safe fading away. "Eddie, wait, what were you even -"

"Upupup!" Eddie plugs his fingers into his ears and starts chanting. Steve has to lunge when he almost bangs his hip against the doorframe to pull him to the side instead. With a groan, Eddie hides his face in his hands. "Can we pretend none of that happened and that I was on my way to get my guitar without eavesdropping?"

"Nope," Steve says cheerfully, dragging Eddie along by hooking an arm over his shoulder. "I'm gonna be using that for weeks."

"Well excuuuuse me," Eddie squints, dropping down to pick up his guitar and sling it over one shoulder. "If I just wanna know why Jeff would be calling right after a house call from Frankie. You planning something I don't know about?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it. It's just some new tracks," Steve pats his shoulder and saunters his way to the stairs. "Now come on, you promised me a show."

It's silent, no footsteps, no quip, so Steve turns back just in case.

"Huwha?"

Yup, same flushed cheeks. Looks like his plan is working perfectly. Steve smiles, turns back around and makes his way up the staircase. It's almost time for the final step - actually fucking saying something.

He's got this. Right? ("Right.")

"So," Steve starts as they walk into his bedroom ("Keep your cool, keep it together, do not fuck this up - but also no pressure, this is a big step -"). "What exactly were you gonna show me anyways? All you said was a melody and -"

"Upupup," Eddie says, placing his hands on Steve's shoulders and walking him back towards his bed, where he ends up tripping on to. "Woah, shit! You okay?"

Shaking his head, Steve just laughs. The giddiness has finally cracked open in his chest, all his feelings floating up like - like they're in his blood, pouring out of him. "All good. You're that excited, huh?"

"Don't think you can trick me," Eddie pokes a finger at Steve's forehead, both hands coming down to rest at Steve's shoulders as he lightly shakes him. "This is very important, Harrington, no distractions or interruptions, alright?"

Steve lets his hands glide back behind him on the bed, leaning back on them and tilting his head. With a soft smile (practiced and well-worn with the amount of times he's used it for Robin, Max, Dustin, Erica, Eddie), he leans on his hands behind him, watching Eddie's cheeks turn pink in real time. "Alright. Impress me, Munson."

It takes a second, Eddie fumbling with his guitar and his jacket, his eyes flickering back to Steve before snapping away, but eventually he spins around and sits on the floor, leaning against the bed. Without the leather (a gift from Dustin, with Mike and Steve's help, that made Eddie cry that day, no matter how much he denies it), he looks smaller. His white shirt isn't thick enough, lets Steve see the skin underneath, the wounds and scars.

With a sigh, Steve brushes a hand along Eddie's shoulder, lets the warmth sink in -

"Woah!" Eddie chokes, twitching in place, shaking Steve's hand off. "I said no interruptions, my good sir!"

"Sorry," Steve says genuinely, totally went a bit far there, that's fair. He clears his throat and shuffles to lie down along the bed instead, careful not to hit Eddie with his feet ("You've gotten enough concussions for all of us, so it's my job to make sure it doesn't happen again, as your best friend and soulmate because I am not losing you.") and settles on his side. "Go ahead, I'm listening."

Eddie takes a deep breath, readjusts his guitar, tunes it, strumming and adjusting and tuning and looping over and over - "Okay, uh, could you like - uh, not like, stare at me? I mean, not - I'm just - uh, nervous I guess."

With a blink, Steve says, "'Course, man. Take your time," and reshuffles so he's staring up at the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark stars he put up with Dustin are still up there. They don't glow that much but he thinks they're bright enough for him.

"Thanks," Eddie murmurs and clears his throat. With one final deep breath, he starts playing and...

It's good. It's great actually. Steve doesn't know much about music ("You're surrounded by musicians! You play music when you - you know, do the thing! I bet you know way more than you think."), but the melody is slower than he expected, less head-banging and more...just looking at his stars.

He lets his head turn so he can watch Eddie play, the little bun of hair pulled up higher than when he tied it up. It isn't anything special, but it makes the cracked-open glow in Steve's chest burn brighter, melt out of his ribcage like some kind of radioactive goop that he doesn't bother scooping back inside. Not when it feels like this.

The sunlight is dimmer now, but it shines over Steve's legs onto the back of Eddie, casting a shadow on the bedroom floor.

With that thought, the melody ends and Eddie turns a little in his spot to stare at Steve. He looks nervous, the light outside keeping him bright and Steve can't look away. "So, uh, what - what'd ya think?"

It isn't that easy, describing music. Usually Steve sticks to whatever makes him feel good, sometimes just whatever makes him feel in general. But this felt -

"That was amazing, Eddie." The words taste awkward on his tongue but it's blown away by the delight in Eddie's face.

"Yeah?! Yeah, I wanted to try something different, after everything, y'know, so I figured, well the world almost ended, maybe going easy for once wouldn't hurt and -"

He goes on. He goes on and smiles at Steve and the sunlight surrounds them and he can't take it anymore.

Sitting up and smoothly shifting back onto the bed, Steve leans over and reaches out. When his hand cups Eddie's jaw, the rambling stops. He stares down, Eddie stares up, the sunlight reaching out between them, and Steve lets out a soft chuckle.

"You're amazing," Steve says, bringing over his other hand so he's gently holding Eddie's face. He doesn't know what he looks like but he knows that in this moment, Eddie is stunning. Big wide eyes, pink flush and a shadow over his face -

Knock knock knock.

"Oh, you are fucking with me -" Steve shouts, leaping off to the other side of the bed to see - "Gareth?!"

"Open - the - window -" The scrawny asshole mouths up at him through the window, one hand wobbling on the frame. Steve has a quick, ruthless thought of pulling the blinds down but it'll never be more than a thought. With a sigh, he opens the window and reaches out, helping Gareth climb through. "Holy shit, that was so scary. How the hell did you do this every night?"

"I -" Steve sputters, shutting the window behind him. "I did not climb through people's windows every night! Just - like, on the occasion! Shut up, what are you even doing here?"

"Okay, so remember when you told me about -"

"Nope!"

Steve and Gareth jump, looking over to find a fuming Eddie, his guitar strewn on the bed and his expression manic.

"Nope, we're not doing this, actually, thanks Gary," Eddie says brightly, grabbing Gareth by the scruff of his shirt and dragging him out of the bedroom. "I'm sure whatever movie or album or debate or whatever you just couldn't wait to talk to Steve about, it actually can and will fucking wait!"

He shuts the door behind the poor kid before spinning around and stomping over to the window, where he pulls the blinds shut so they're left in shadows. Steve stares as Eddie breathes heavily, his shoulders hunched up and hair lifting up and down and -

Then Eddie spins around again, grabbing Steve by the shoulders and staring straight into his eyes.

Steve blinks.

"Listen up, Harrington," Eddie spits out, his glare vividly stuck on Steve's face. "You and I both know this little meet up wasn't just some meet up and I have no fucking clue why my band keeps interrupting us, but I'm going to fucking explode if I don't kiss you right here, right now after a whole fucking day of just - just you."

Steve blinks twice.

Eddie's breathing is still heavy but not harmful, his eyes wide and harsh on Steve's, so dark without the sun, so deep and obscure. His hair is still in the bun, messed up and frazzled as it is, a few curls coming down to brush against his cheek.

He really does light something up in Steve.

"Harrington, I swear -"

"Kiss me," Steve says and -

And he does.

And it's amazing.

Eddie mashes their faces together, knocking Steve's teeth with his own, bumping their noses, gripping Steve's shoulder too tightly.

It's everything.

Steve sighs into the kiss, running a hand up to Eddie's jaw, letting the other coax around Eddie's back and pull him in closer.

It's Eddie.

"Guys?"

With the very audible sound of skin on skin, Steve pulls away, heart fluttering when Eddie sighs and the breath touches his lips. He opens his eyes and stares at Steve, who rests his forehead against his.

Giggling, he shyly says, "Hi."

Steve grins, closing his eyes briefly to nuzzle their noses together. "Hey."

"Sooo," Eddie giggles again. "That was nice."

"Very nice," Steve hums. He strokes a thumb over Eddie's cheek, feeling the heat of the pink against it. "We should do it again."

"Yeah? Yeah, I think so too." Eddie leans in -

"Guys? What's happening?!"

"Gareth, I swear to GOD I am killing off your character," Eddie yells at the door, his arms wrapping around Steve's neck heatedly. It feels amazing. "In fact, I'm killing off all of your characters after the stunts you guys pulled today!"

"Wha - what did we do?! Wait, what did I do?"

"He's right," Steve leans closer, nuzzling Eddie's hair. "They were just trying to -"

"Oh no," Eddie half-heartedly smacks his chest, cheeks still a pretty, pretty pink. "Don't defend them, not when you're the one that used your weird charm on my friends and made them all 'Ooh, Steve this, Steve that' while I was trying not to think about your ass for the fifth time every goddamn day!"

Blinking, Steve smirks. "Think about my ass often, Munson?"

"Shut the fuck up," Eddie glares. "And get back here."

Lucky him, Steve doesn't think he'd want anything else.

if anyone else had wanted to be tagged but wasn't or if i accidentally tagged someone wrongly, my apologies tag list: @ramyayaya @alienace @5pac3g1r7 @emly03 @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @maya-custodios-dionach @elliegrey2803 @bejeweledbaby @blanketlicker @messrs-weasley @estrellami-1 @stillfullofshit

[sailing-through-hawkins]

Part 1 ✧ Part 2 ✧ Part 3 of Harrington Charms Hellfire ✧ Part 4 ✧ AO3

Last time was the start of a pattern, Eddie's sure of it. The first time was fine, that was just Steve working his Family Video magic on Gareth to get some movie recommendations. Then that time with Jeff and Trey and Steve and going to some fancy record store to search for Dolly Parton and Prince and Tears for Fears and fucking hell nothing is sacred around Steve Harrington anymore.

It's like he has this halo, this fucking charisma bubble that makes everyone in the vicinity willing to fall at their feet for him. It's stupid because he's just a dork with a car and like, seven kids. One of whom is a butthead. He gets it from Steve, Eddie concludes, Dustin was a butthead way before Eddie took him in and it's all Steve's fault.

Hell, Eddie's just arrived at a Corroded Coffin band session and the first thing Frank asks him is "Hey, where's Harrington?"

And it's ridiculous, because it's been only a month since Steve has started joining in on their sessions, which means he's only been inside of Gareth's garage like four times. And yeah, Eddie's always happy to have him around but apparently, so is everyone else in the garage.

Eddie grits his teeth and tilts his head with what Jeff calls his 'maniac smile'. "Why it's great to see you too, Frank! I've been having a fine day, thank you for fucking asking. How have you been? How's the old guitar case?"

Frank holds his case closer to his chest protectively, rolling his eyes as if Eddie was nothing more than a yipping dog. "Yeah, yeah, good to see you, all that shit. Is Harrington here?"

"Wouldn't know," Eddie pushes his shoulders up in a forceful shrug, flopping down to the sofa and thrumming his fingers on the polished material. Feels nice. "I came by myself today."

And there's a second of pure silence before -

"What?!"

"What did you do?"

"No shit, he's not coming today?"

Remember what Eddie said a while back about having a breakdown about his life now? Yeah, looks like he's one dropped fork away from losing his entire shit so. That's fun.

"Since when do you guys even want him here?" Eddie spits, eyeing the three of them. There's literally no reason for this weird interrogation, Steve was busy doing his hero-shit and Eddie convinced him he could make it to the session by himself no problem, just come by later Stevie, nobody would hold it against you when you're literally saving babies and shit. "I thought he was just a glorified asshole who peaked in high school, hm?"

"Well, he was," Gareth defends, tossing up a drumstick and catching it again. Nervous habit, usually reserved for suggesting an idea Eddie is absolutely going to hate but still agree to, because it's still a fucking good idea, damn it. "Besides, you should be happy we're all finally getting along!"

"Oh, I am delighted, Gareth!" Eddie waves his hands up, ignoring the pinch of stretched skin across his upper body. Fuck, may need to check on that later. "I am fucking delighted that you, all of you, who have sworn that they'd feel nothing but disdain for the guy who literally saved my life, are suddenly all really into spending time with him! That doesn't sound suspicious at all!"

Jeff's eyebrows shoot up and he plops himself next to Eddie on the sofa, nudging their shoulders together. Fuck, his wounds are stinging. "You think we're, what, tricking Steve into thinking we like him?"

"Oh, you like him, do you?" Eddie narrows his eyes, the something ugly, now something beastly under his skin snarling, lurking near the surface. "Color me surprised when it's taken me months to even get you guys to let him drop me off here without biting at his ankles."

"It did not take months," Gareth huffs. "We just asked -"

"Demanded."

"- asked him not to stick around while we play. Not for the first time! We've told the freshmen no, more than once!"

"Yeah because they're freshmen," Eddie throws his hands up again, fuck his torso, he doesn't need it anyways. "Look, sorry if I'm a little bit suspicious, but he - he's a really good friend, okay? I just don't want him getting hurt. Not by you guys."

Another moment of silence.

"Have a little faith in us, Eddie," Jeff says with a sigh, standing up from his seat. He picks up his guitar and starts strumming, nodding along to the rhythm. "We're freaks, not complete dicks. Steve is...a good guy, we wouldn't do that to him."

And it hits him right there. They're just getting along with Steve - finally - because it's Steve. Everyone likes Steve, even people who don't like Steve like Steve, it's like a law of the universe. Hell, Eddie's even suspected Tommy H.'s...fixation for the King may have been something other than just liking, a not-so-platonic something, and that suspicion only got stronger after their weird friendship-break-up-this-is-my-new-king-thing.

"Gareth! Your friend is here!" Gareth's Mom giggles, fucking giggles, the door to the garage opening and revealing none other than the very man of the hour. A post-school-supply Steve. His tells are obvious, from the pen marks on his arm (happens everytime, and apparently by several different children who like trying to connect his moles, lucky little shits) to the shine in his eyes from a day of productivity. Damn him.

Steve turns to Gareth's Mom with that winning smile and gives her a nod as he walks in. "Thanks again, Mrs -"

"Oh please, Steve, I've already told you to just call me Olivia!" Gareth's Mom, who Eddie has never called anything other than Gareth's Mom, laughs and shakes the lunchbox in her hands. "Lord knows you've given us enough baked goods to drop the formalities."

Steve laughs again, god, he even has Gareth's Mom wrapped around his finger, doesn't he? "Thanks, Olivia. I'll be sure to bring that carrot cake over next time, promise."

And with a giggly farewell, Gareth's Mom closes the door behind her. Steve spins around to see the entire band staring at him, because where else would they look?

"You're on thin fucking ice, dude," Gareth points his drumstick at Steve with a ferocity Eddie usually sees reserved for the darkest of foes. "I told you to stop flirting with my mom already."

"Sorry, Gary," Steve shrugs as he plops down on the sofa next to Eddie. "But I think she might be the one -"

"Fuck you!" Gareth throws his drumstick at Steve, who just completely loses it and fuck, his laugh is too infectious. Eddie wonders if the thing in his chest is purring at that smile or growling at the idea of Steve genuinely flirting with Gareth's Mom. Not because she's Gareth's Mom, which - no, actually, just say it's because it's Gareth's Mom, that's weird.

The session goes by well, Eddie doesn't participate much outside of listening and suggesting tune changes or lyrics or anything really. He's just trying to keep the warmth of Steve's thigh against his own off his mind. It's been an hour since they sat down and even when everyone else has gone off to the bathroom, kitchen or wherever, Steve hasn't left Eddie's side for a moment. Seems to even...enjoy it, with the way he's smiling at Eddie. Damn him.

"So," Eddie nudges his thigh, which is definitely the exact opposite of ignoring but at least his wounds don't - nope, yeah, still stings, fuck. "The whole band was asking when you were coming, you know. You, Steve Harrington, managed to get the freakiest misfits of Hawkins all looking forward to your arrival."

Steve rubs the back of his neck, stroking along those two moles under his jawline that make excellent targets for - well. Not important. "Oh, that - that's nice, that they want me around now," he laughs and damn him. "I was worried cause I really like hanging out with them, y'know? Not to mention I don't have to think about them chasing me away from you now."

God damn him, that smooth fucker.

"You don't have to worry about that, Stevie." Eddie clears his throat, tapping his pinkie finger on his belt chain and if it also taps against Steve's thigh, well. That's nobody's business. "Even if they locked me up in a tower and threw away a key, I'd still find a way to you."

Shit, shit, shit, that's hitting too close to the heart, what the hell happened to definitely not love?!

"Oh," Steve says quietly, fuck fuck shit damn it Munson fuck, and then gives Eddie the most blinding smile in the world. Like - it's like someone used sunbeams trailing through a window on a spring morning as paint, all to paint the pretty picture of a golden, smiling, beautiful Steve Harrington. "That's really - thanks, Eds. I just - I guess I just want them to like me since they're like - they're your friends. And they're important to you."

And Eddie thinks about that for a second. Steve, against all odds, went ahead and made friends with the freaks because they're important to Eddie. And this was before he started coming to the band sessions, hell it was probably only a little bit after he started dropping Eddie off to them considering Gareth's current love of Grease of all things.

"You're important to me too," Eddie murmurs, the sting of his torso blurring away even as he turns to face Steve fully. This is it, this is the moment. "You carried me out of hell, Steve. I'd follow you back if you asked me to."

Nobody says anything. Then -

"Harrington!"

Whatever Steve was going to say (the beast purrs, howls, whines at his flushed cheeks, pushing out from inside Eddie's chest like it wants to curl up against Steve's instead), he's cut off by a grinning Frank. Steve quickly turns to smile at him (snarls, anger, fight) with a "Hey man."

And that's when Frank drops a magazine right in Steve's lap, smugly crossing his arms. Eddie tries not to glare at him because they were definitely having a moment but it's cool, everything's cool. "I've found it."

"No way," Steve's eyes widen at the magazine and he's laughing in disbelief, flicking through it with a wide grin. "What the fuck, Frankie, where'd - how'd - what the fuck?!"

"I have my ways," Frank says with his typical "I am a man of many secrets" smile that is currently driving Eddie up the wall because what the shit, Frank? "That is the correct one, then?"

"Yeah dude!" Steve nods and he's looking at Frank in awe and just -

"What exactly is this little surprise?" Eddie leans in closer, curling an arm up around Steve's shoulders and resting their heads together so he can have a peek at the magazine on Steve's lap. Obviously the most efficient method. And now Eddie can clearly see - "Wait, is that Star Trek?"

"A Trek 'zine by none other than one Gale Parker to be precise," Frank sits on Steve's other side, pointing out to one of the pages that has Steve so transfixed. "Took me a while, but this bit with the Tribbles sounded identical to your description so..."

"Dude," Steve is shaking his head and laughing, his eyes never leaving the page. "This is amazing. I didn't even - holy shit, I can't believe you just found it, based off nothing!"

"What d'you mean, based off nothing?" Eddie  is a little, just a little tired of being left out of the loop like this. Not the first time and probably, much to his own irk, won't be the last. But it's fine, it's cool, it's - "And why are you so excited over a nerdy magazine? You told me you never watched Star Trek?!"

Steve has the gall to look sheepish at that and bite at the inside of his lips, oh damn him. "I may have - okay so I technically haven't watched any of it now, I just...used to? Sometimes. When I was a kid."

"You -" Eddie inhales and mentally pats himself on the back for not screeching, Gareth's Mom would definitely not appreciate that. "You used to watch Star Trek?"

"I had a nanny," Steve says and Eddie nods because of course he did. He had tons of nannies because the Harringtons were assholes who didn't know how to appreciate any of their hired help, but Steve told him that in confidence so. Not the time. "She was super into Star Trek, would put it on every time it aired or like, she'd bring over the tapes she had. The Tribbles episode was my favourite, I always wanted to pet one but couldn't reach through the screen." He laughs and Eddie thinks, sunbeams, golden, warmth.

"You seem like a Tribbles kid," Eddie offers as if he has any idea what he's talking about. Steve smiles at him and looks back down to the magazine, which actually is a lot more worn than Eddie gave it credit for. The pages aren't glossy but reflect the light in a dim kinda way, not super polished. The page Steve's thumb is stroking has some kind of illustration of the big macho Captain with a slash across his shirt-chest-area and uh...huh. Mhm.

"When dad found out, he got pissed and sent her packing. She snuck me a package before she left and it was this," Steve holds up the magazine. "A magazine that her sister made and sent a copy to her. She gave it to me and I held on to it for years but...y'know how it is," Steve laughs, a bitter thing that makes the beast croon and whine. "Nothing stays hidden forever."

Eddie doesn't know how to respond to that. It sounds like one of those phrases Steve and Robin would share with each other, some kind of little inside secret that no one else could fathom, just the pair of them and their knowing glances. Eddie doesn't know what should stay hidden between them, that's the whole point of hiding, but he thinks, sometimes, it's just another fundamental gear to their machine. Just another piece of the puzzle that makes up the Hawkins' Heroes.

Yeah.

Heroes.

"But you fucking found the exact issue," Steve grins up at Frank, breaking apart the sombre mood like smashing an oar into a flying demon. No subtlety but god, does it work. "I just - holy shit, dude, you're like Sherlock Holmes or something."

Frank preens at that, because of course he does. Eddie's still got a lot of questions like, since when did Frank and Steve talk about Star Trek and did Frank offer to find a very localised fan-made product from Steve's childhood and what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck but apparently none of those questions matter right now because the beast in Eddie's chest is snarling and his wounds are ripping his insides out and -

"Eddie! Come on, man, stay with me!"

Blinking the spots out of his eyes, Eddie finds, right in front of him, Steve's big and beautiful face with concern etched into his brow. Warm palms cup his jawline and Eddie leans into the touch, heartbeat running faster than he ever could, than he ever has.

"Eds?" Steve calls him quietly, voice like a soothing balm over the shrapnel of his torso. "You with me?"

"'M always with you, Stevie," Eddie grins, or he thinks he does. He's probably not doing a very good job if Frank's pale face is anything to go by. "Ow, that hurts."

Steve takes his hand away from Eddie's waist where it was poking at his very tender wound. "Sorry, I - wait, has it been hurting this whole time? God, that's why you were wincing, you little shit. Gary," - And that's weird because Eddie definitely does not remember Gareth being here two seconds ago - "Got a medical kit somewhere 'round here?"

When he starts lifting up Eddie's shirt, it finally hits that oh shit, hang on, no. Eddie quickly grasps Steve's wrists and pull them away from his waist but the guy just isn't budging, damn his arms. "Wait, wait, wait, Stevie, I'm good, I'm good!"

"Liar," Steve glares at him and damn him for being so pretty when he does. "You just blanked out for a whole thirty seconds! Why didn't you tell me it was a bad day!"

"Because it wasn't!" Eddie's trying not to sound hysterical but the aggression that Steve's very clearly holding back in his trembling fists, which are still gripping Eddie's shirt fucking hell, is scrambling Eddie's brain to the point all he hears is a cartoonish wolf-whistle-and-howl on loop. "I swear, Stevie, I was fine until now! I am fine, I'm good!"

Steve stops pushing against Eddie's hands but still manages to lock him up with a swallow and worried eyes. "You swear? You're not just saying that?"

And fuck, Eddie will never be able to resist those eyes. The day he does is the same day Jane/El/Ellie (because Jane apparently is only one of her names and it still confuses the fuck out of him but he's supportive because fuck the man, have a fuckton of names!) swears off Eggos. "Swear on my hair, it's not that bad."

Does he totally understand Steve's need to know people's wellbeing, to make sure they're gonna be alright again, honest and just in the way he is? Kind of, in an abstract way, but sometimes Eddie thinks it goes a lot deeper than the little pond he sees the bottom of. He thinks that pond is just the first step, a false start that makes you think you know everything you need to about Steve. In fact, he thinks he'd need to cast Water Breathing on himself just to go that far into Steve's everything and understand him, at his core, the way Robin does effortlessly.

Because the way Steve's looking at him right now? Big eyes marred by a furrowed brow, jaw tense like he's clenching his own lungs, hand resting on Eddie's thigh like he's using a lifeline?

That's something Eddie doesn't think he'll ever understand.

"I'm okay, Steve," he says, trying his damnedest not to wince as he pats Steve's cheek. "I'm okay."

The beautiful, golden, bleeding heart of a guy in front of him takes in a shuddering breath and lets go of his shirt to rub at his eyes. He lets out a bark of a laugh (the beast barks back, keening and weeping as if mourning the loss of the sunbeam's warmth) and flops his head onto the sofa, face covered by his hands.

"Uh," Gareth clears his throat, shuffling on his feet with a little box of bandaids and Vaseline (oh he is absolutely getting teased for that later) in his hands. "Should I put this back or -?"

"No," Steve takes in a breath and sits up, spine hardened and strong against the weight of what Eddie thinks might be the whole world. Steve smiles at Gareth and takes the box, putting in on the sofa space between him and woah, there is like barely any space, Steve's knee is practically shoving its way behind Eddie's back. Well, there's a thought - "Thanks, Gareth. I'll just do a quick check and drop him home."

"But -"

"I will do a quick check," Steve says pleasantly, eyes ablaze with gold and fire and a decided lack of choice for Eddie. "And if it's bad, I'm going to drop you home where you will stay in bed or on the couch, your choice, while I call Wayne and let him know what's up."

"Stevie -"

"And you are going to be good," Steve continues in that pleasant tone, lifting up Eddie's shirt and gently stroking his thumb across Eddie's bat bites like they're something holy, oh fuck. "And let me take care of you, right Eds?"

Don't look at his face, don't think about his voice, do NOT think about him calling Eddie a good boy, don't do it Munson, hold strong, hold fucking strong -

"Eddie."

"Yes sir!" Eddie squeaks when Steve's palm warms Eddie's hip, squeezing just enough that Eddie may have to recite the entire Players Handbook just to keep calm. It's not very effective. "Yup, that's me, Good Boy Eddie, that's what they call me."

Fucking hell.

Frank is doubled over behind Steve, gripping his own arms as his shoulders shake like he's laugh - oh fuck him. Gareth is absolutely holding in his laughter with the way his fist is practically shoved into his mouth, fuck him. At least Jeff has the decency to share Eddie's shame and hides his face in his hands and oh no, he's laughing too isn't he, oh fuck him come on.

"Looks like it's not too bad," Steve concludes, sitting upright and away from Eddie's immediate space (come back, the beast whines, come back and let me hold you). "No tears, no inflamed parts, no gut reactions to me poking, you might really be fine."

"Told you," Eddie says weakly, flipping a subtle bird to the silent guffawing band that banes his existence. "All good."

"Yeah, you're good." Steve lets out a chuckle, patting Eddie's head before settling back into the sofa with a stretch. Wow, for someone who's back and front have been torn to shreds by a horrific alternate dimension and its goons...Steve's back sure does arch, it sure does. "Thanks for the kit, Gary, sorry for the whole - y'know."

"Eh," Gareth shrugs, taking back the kit with a smarmy look that Eddie does not like. "'S alright. Quick question though, you always tuck Eddie in or is that a new Harrington Habit?"

"I thought we agreed Harrington Habits are not gonna be a thing," Steve rolls his eyes.

"And," Jeff says as if Steve didn't say a word (do they have inside jokes now? What's a Harrington Habit?), flopping an arm over Gareth's shoulders with a bastardly smirk. "Is it Eddie-exclusive or can we get some precious nurse Steve time?"

And that gets Steve's cheeks blooming a bright pink, the beast gnawing on Eddie's ribcage like it just needs an excuse to rip, tear, bite. "Shut it, Jeffrey."

"Ooh, a full name, someone's in the dog house," Frank laughed, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder.

The beast wants to hiss, bite, snarl -

Eddie shakes his head with a sigh and claps his hands. "Alright, alright, are we gonna practice or are we just gonna torture poor Stevie all day?"

Frank snorts but his face quickly turns innocent when Eddie snaps his head around to glare, the bastard.

"I vote for practice," Steve raises his hand weakly and oh fuck, Eddie's in fucking love isn't he.

"Alright, alright," Jeff chuckles, shoving Gareth towards his drums (finally, some good fucking roughhousing) and picking up his own guitar. "We got another half an hour in us, let's put it to good use."

Steve's pink fades away but his face is still flushed by a smile as he hollers them on, Eddie joining along when Frank manages to get the perfect build-up for Gareth to try out a solo and yeah. Yeah, this is good, this is -

This is home.

Just one more part planned for this! can't say when it'll be out but hope you all enjoyed this regardless ^^

if anyone else had wanted to be tagged but wasn't or if i accidentally tagged someone wrongly, my apologies tag list: @ramyayaya @alienace @5pac3g1r7 @emly03 @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @maya-custodios-dionach @elliegrey2803

[sailing-through-hawkins]

Part 1 ✧ Part 2 of Harrington Charms Hellfire! ✧ Part 3 ✧ Part 4 ✧ now on AO3

It's not much consolation, not when he gets nightmares and sometimes Frank or Robin have to knock him out of an impending daze when he remembers the bites, the screaming, pain, the p a i n, god it hurt, it hurts so much, it -

Yeah, getting a house (like a real, not to mention fucking massive, house) from the government (the fucking government) isn't much consolation because he still freaks out but he could definitely get used to having so much more space to just - just exist in. And Wayne's got a bed now too! Ain't that something fucking grand, they got enough room for Eddie, Wayne AND visitors if they don't mind a couch. It's just - not complete consolation, but it's just a sweetness after a world of monsters, death and blood.

Plus, it's closer to Dustin and Gareth and - well, everyone basically. Even Steve, in that big ol' mansion he calls a house (not a home, Robin tells him, I don't think it's been a home for a while) that Eddie is on his way to right now. The streets of the refined (snobby), cultured (judgemental) and luxurious (that one's accurate) neighbourhood have emptied out since the whole averted-apocalypse-thing. Most rich folks don't wanna stick around after so many "gas leaks" and earth-shattering quakes apparently. Who knew.

It's a walk he enjoys, not too much effort on a good day, because it means he gets a little fresh air and daylight and that's pretty nice after spending a near-death experience thinking the last thing he'd taste was ashes and stale air and the world is a horror-infested black mirror wrapped in a fucking nightmare and Dustin oh Dustin -

But that's all fine because now he is breathing the fresh air and is walking in the daylight and he's on his way to the sun incarnate himself.

Ugh, the things love does to him.

Okay, still definitely not love but like, more than an infatuation. It's just - there's not a lot of good words in the English language okay, not enough to describe his heartbeat when Steve smiles at him or how those scars, peeking out from a stupid polo riding up, light something sad and soft in Eddie's chest, a crooning that begs to touch and soothe and not love, not love, nope.

God damn it.

Eddie sighs, shaking out the insistent thoughts (touch, soothe, love) as he approaches Steve's place and sees -

What the fuck, is that Jeff?

"Eddie!" He smiles, giving a small wave while he's standing outside his car? Parked outside Steve's place? And is that - that's the big-city brother standing with him? That's - not - that's weird, right?! "Hey man, what's up?"

"Uh, nothing much," Eddie comes to a stop and smiles back, glancing between the front door that's clearly fucking open and Jeff's brother, what was his name? "Hey..."

Big-City-Bro smiles a small thing and brings up his hand. Eddie shakes it gladly, who knew he'd feel such elation from being treated like a normal fucking person (not a killer, not a rebel, not a martyr). "Hi Eddie. I'm Trey."

Eddie's brain snaps its imaginary fingers because yes, Trey! Jeff and Trey, the Brothers Brave and the brothers that still won't tell Gareth which of them is older. Frank is adamant in his "they're fucking twins" bet.

"So," Eddie raises his eyebrows, because this is Steve's house right? Eddie didn't just enter (another) alternate reality where Jeff -

"Eds!" And that's when Steve comes barrelling out the door almost tripping on his way over before Jeff was able to catch him in time. "Shit, I'm sorry, Eddie, I completely forgot about our plans, fuck I'm so sorry dude."

Wow. Even panicking and flustered, Steve still manages to look stunning, god look at the crease of his worried little forehead.

"No worries, Stevie," Eddie grins, because look at him. God he's so fucking cute. Look at his sheepish little face, those scattered little moles, that hand still on his little forearm - wait. Eddie eyes the pair of them, Jeff and Steve, both looking back with apologetic half-grimaces. Big-City-Bro seems quietly amused over all. Terrific. "I am curious about this little get-together though."

"Well, Steve and I were on the phone last night -"

Hang on, what?

"- and Jeff thought he could come along since he's dropping me -"

Last night? As in, a late night call? As in, like, twirling fingers around phone cords and "no, you hang up" and a late night call, is that what they're saying?

"But I just called and then Wayne said you were already on your way over and now..."

Eddie blinks. The Brothers Brave are glancing at each other but Steve is just looking at him with big, soulful eyes and his head is tilted in just the right way that the brown of his hair turns gold in the afternoon sunshine.

Last night?!

"You guys talk at night?" Eddie manages to squeak out, the something ugly in his chest rearing its head to hiss at the - the implications of that, like - what the fuck?

Steve huffs a chuckle awkwardly, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. Eddie tries not to zone in on the (totally unsexy of course) scar circling under his collar because last time he did that, Steve misunderstood and it was a whole thing. (A whole thing that ended up with Robin helping comfort Steve because Eddie couldn't properly articulate just how fucking badass that scar was, a symbol of survival, how it keeps reminding him of that time Steve tore a hellish winged demon with his bare hands and bared teeth and he was at least able to tell Steve he just thought the scar was cool).

"Uh, not like - not like that," Steve clears his throat. "Just sometimes...music, y'know?"

"Yeah!" Jeff nods earnestly and the something ugly softens because it's Jeff, who could ever be upset with Jeff? "Steve's got some great ideas and a good ear, Eddie, which is why I keep saying you should stick around our practice!"

Steve ducks his head, cheeks flushing a pretty, pretty pink, his smile something sweet and bashful and god fucking damn it. Eddie clears his throat and gives Steve an encouraging smile, making the sun incarnate glow ever brighter and the rays of light around him are wisps in comparison. Fucking hell.

"I really did forget, Eds," Steve says mournfully, his eyes practically begging Eddie for forgiveness from under his lashes. "I'm so sorry."

Eddie shrugs, because well. Yeah, Stevie's always had a bit of a problem with memory, it's why he writes everything on his fridge-calendar. Eddie gets it. "'S alright, dude, it happens. Are you guys heading out now?"

"Yeah but -" Steve cuts himself off and starts grinning excitedly, oh no. "You should come with us! There's space, right, Jeff?"

Jeff's earnest nod does a good job of hiding the clear trepidation that peeks through his expression, but technically, Eddie made plans to hang out with Steve first (last fucking week, take that "last night" Jeff) so this can't really count as intruding, right? Plus why would Jeff feel nervous about Eddie coming along to some music record store in the city? It's not like he's gonna be interrupting like - like a date or anything! This is just some plans they made (with Jeff's strong, silent type brother so it's fine) and now Eddie is invited. Steve looks super happy to have Eddie come along anyways so. Fuck yeah.

"I'm humbled by the offer to accompany you on your quest, my liege," Eddie gives a bow, laughing when Steve gently pulls him up and fusses over his scarring (how does he make wounds feel so sweet). "It would be an honor."

Trey gives a chuckle and clasps Eddie's shoulder before heading over to the passenger seat. Steve grins and opens the backseat door with a bow. What a flirt (Eddie has to hold in the giggle bubbling up his throat).

"So!" Eddie slaps his palms on his knees as Steve settles in the seat next to him, internally screaming because shit, this is very close quarters. "Whose music are we scoping out?"

The engine's already started but that moment of silence in the car? That's worth some kind of pin drop. Jeff's shoulders are tense, the way they are when he's about to investigate just about anything during a Hellfire session, but Trey and Steve both seem pretty...chill?

"Just gonna get some Dolly," Steve smiles and shatters something intrinsic in Eddie. "I kinda lost my only tape after the, uh, the earthquake." He laughs, like he hasn't crushed Eddie's perception of the Good Sir Steve with a single sentence.

"You -" Eddie clears his throat, pointedly ignoring his shaking leg and looking out the window. Think about the reconstructing houses, don't think about Steve liking Dolly Parton of all artists, fucking hell - "You a fan of country then, Steve-o?"

Steve eyes him warily in the window reflection but Eddie keeps looking at the lovely and slightly broken homes they're speeding by. Almost out of Hawkins with a country fan - "Yeah, I mean...I wasn't like a huge fan but after Jeff lended me a couple tracks -"

"Jeff did that, did he!" Eddie says brightly, staring at Jeff with bright, oh very bright eyes. He can practically smell the sweat (ew) pouring off him as he pointedly avoids Eddie's gaze in the mirror. So this is what he's been keeping from Corroded Coffin (aka their fucking metal band, Jeff) this whole time! And to think Gareth was betting on a secret third sibling this whole time (maybe they should cut back on the betting...at least when Dustin is around).

"Yeah!" Steve grins and oh fuck him no Eddie's lost all feelings for that beautiful glow of a smile because he likes fucking country music, goddamnit Steve - "Jeff's showed me tons of cool songs! Hey, how come you don't recommend me anything?"

Eddie sputters when Steve nudges him because um, ex-fucking-cuse you? "I recommend you songs all the time! Black Sabbath! Judas Priest! Overkill! Hell, I even told you KISS was a decent warm-up!"

"Hey, I tried KISS!" Steve's pout holds no power over Eddie, none, that's why he quickly looks away to stare right past Jeff's ear. "It's just...they're just all so, like, headbang-y. Jeff gave me songs I could, y'know, wash the dishes to."

"Ha," Trey's soft laugh snaps Eddie's attention because if there is another traitor in this car, Eddie will not hesitate to open this fucking door - "You put on Dolly Parton, Queen of Country, to wash the dishes of all things?"

And that hum, that damned sheepish chuckle, means that Steve's face is flushing and his eyes are avoidant and fuck. "It makes it more fun to do 'em, y'know, like I'm scrubbing and I'm begging Jolene to leave my man alone."

His. His man? As in, his man? Steve's man? Steve would have a man?

"Oh, I hear you," Trey laughs, fiddling with Jeff's fancy cassette player. "Me and Jeff used to belt out to Dolly all the time and if this is still in-"

Steve gasps as the opening notes to what Eddie assumes is a fucking Dolly Parton song. He wouldn't know because he has real taste and doesn't listen to -

"I'm begging of you, please don't take my man," Steve sings along to the music, his voice soft and crawling across Eddie's spine like a warm campfire in the cold desolation of a forest. "Jolene, Jolene -"

And then Trey is singing along too and his voice has more range but Steve's got the emotions. They're - it's like he's genuinely begging, crying out for a lover's loyalty, for a seductress to back away, to let him have this one man who means everything to him.

Fuck, Eddie's feelings are roaring real sweet and wild in chest as he stares at Steve's heartfelt performance, his focused brow, his wavering bottom lip -

"That was amazing!" Trey exclaims as the final Jolene peters out and he laughs along with Steve, with the breath-taking Steve Harrington. God, fuck. The something in his chest is crooning again and his fingers are itching to stretch into Steve's hair and - "You really can sing, Harrington!"

"Thanks," Steve nudges Eddie again and he doesn't even look away, doesn't try to hide his staring because god, fuck. "Not so bad for a country song, right, Eds?"

With the biggest sigh he's ever exhaled, Eddie nods and bangs his head against Jeff's headrest. He knows Jeff is laughing at him already. "Not bad at all, Stevie. Not bad at all."

I plan on uploading this to AO3 soon, although I'm still debating between posting the rest of the chapters exclusively on there or cross-posting the whole thing on both sites because I have behind-the-scenes things i like to put in the notes, so if anyone has any preferences, let me know! i'll probably do both but add some little author's thoughts to the AO3, maybe some Steve POV on there too

if anyone else had wanted to be tagged but wasn't, my apologies tag list: @ramyayaya @alienace @5pac3g1r7 @emly03 @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @maya-custodios-dionach

[sailing-through-hawkins]

hiya!

i'm sails/sailor and this is my welcome to you (which is subject to change for updated fics or just vibes ο(=•ω＜=)ρ⌒☆)

i enjoy talking about platonic stobin and steddie, and a few other steve ships like stargyle, stoncy, etc (NOT billy, this blog is anti-billy) as well as buckingham and rockie!

ageless/minor blogs will be blocked 〜(￣▽￣〜)

little ideas i have

ficlets, fics and stuff i've written

answers to my inbox

personal mumblings

my stuff on ao3

Harrington Charms Hellfire

Microfics

Monster AUs

Stargyle Ficlet

The Puppy Eyes ficlet

Eddie Gets Isekai'd

The Cat Fic

Mothman!Steve

Wonderland AU (Steddie + Buckingham)