#self indulgent because i love when eddies dark but steve is darker

[ithinkicouldloveher]

apocalypse au | dark steddie | wc 654

eddie munson stands by a secluded picnic table near the trailer park, selling weed after school like usual.

he's jittery because he always is, but especially today.

because finally, it's king steve.

the elusive king steve, who typically sends some henchman out on tasks deemed beneath him, like purchasing drugs. eddie's not sure what changed today. doesn't particularly care.

steve, with that bratty lilt of his, asks for something stronger, so eddie takes him inside; wayne’s gone all weekend for a fishing trip.

they hit it off as they get high, and eddie makes a subtle move, a move he'd been planning for years.

he's unsurprised when steve agrees to spend the night. eddie silently thanks tommy hagan's motor mouth for that; he's known for a while now that steve sleeps with dudes. he's just low-key about it.

the next morning, eddie switches on the radio while steve pours coffee and complains about a headache.

they're shocked at what they hear.

a deadly virus, spread like wildfire.

thousands dead, hundreds of thousands more infected.

the apocalypse.

steve doesn’t believe it— he goes to the window.

it's almost cinematic, what he sees. two dead bodies on the grass. a grey-skinned creature of a man with blood for eyes and fangs for teeth feasting on their flesh. it catches steve staring and dashes toward the trailer.

they manage to escape into the forest by the skin of their teeth.

there, in the forest, they remain.

stranded.

over the weeks, cities collapse. government organizations shutter.

the pair venture out and around rural indiana, gathering supplies, hunting for food. keeping their wits about them, because the zombie-like creatures run rampant.

and then one day, like magic, they stumble upon some rich dude’s abandoned underground bunker.

must have been some armageddon-fearing kook, steve figures.

eddie can’t believe their luck.

the choice is obvious.

they stay there.

they stay and they stay and they stay and they go a bit insane in their isolation but they’re happy and they’re safe.

eddie has grown quite content being the only person in steve’s life.

he’d never tell steve, but.

it’s all he’s ever wanted. his darkest desire. his sickest fantasy. his twisted dream, the minute he laid eyes upon the alluring, bratty, magnetic steve harrington in high school.

months later, out of curiosity, eddie ventures upward to scope out the scene.

the sight in front of him makes him go stock-still.

the apocalypse is over.

there’s people— exhausted and dirty and bloody with bandages and missing limbs— but people, nonetheless— rebuilding, gathering, creating relief sites.

heart hammering, eddie descends to the bunker.

steve looks at him expectantly. if he notices anything weird in eddie’s expression, he doesn’t say.

“so? apocalypse over yet?” steve teases in front of the tv where he’s put a vhs tape in— there’s hundreds— and settles down with a cup of noodles from the food supply shelves.

eddie stares at him.

he makes a split-second decision.

“yeah right,” eddie snorts, sauntering over to the boy. he playfully bites his cheek and steve yelps, but he doesn’t push eddie away. in fact he does the opposite, sinking into eddie's side. “only in our dreams, at this point. only in our wiiiiiildest dreams, stevie baby.”

steve hums.

later, eddie suggests he cover the window with black tape, telling steve it's out of precaution because creatures might walk by and peek in, notice the staircase on the other side.

steve gives him an odd look.

eddie's pulse rabbits. his palms go sweaty.

steve's caught him out, he's sure of it.

he's has unraveled the lie, he'll leave eddie and never return.

silence crackles.

and then steve nods slowly.

"maybe... maybe we deadbolt the door too. just in case."

eddie whips his head up, wide-eyed.

steve's gaze is heavy.

imploring.

eddie's jaw opens and shuts.

he feels wrong-footed, like he's missed a step.

but slowly, he murmurs in agreement, "...yeah. just in case."