#steddie pining

[liminalsanctuary]

Final chapter is up!

Hopper and his associate show up the day before Gabriel to go over the plan. Steve stands up to his dad. Eddie uses the 'b' word. Flash forward to the next summer.

~~~~~

Steve had been on edge for nearly a week–ever since he’d sent his plane ticket back to his dad in New York. He felt like his father could show up in a rage at any time, and he couldn’t stop himself from looking out to the ranch entrance every chance he had. He hadn’t been sleeping well for the last several nights; when Eddie heard him tossing and turning one evening, he’d padded over to Steve’s side of the room and tucked himself against him in the bed. Some nights he read to Steve, other nights he just ran his fingers through his hair and talked to him until he fell asleep with his head on Eddie’s chest. Steve was grateful. He knew he’d need his wits about him when Gabriel finally showed up.

The day before the date on his plane ticket, Hopper and his associate were set to arrive on the ranch. Steve and Eddie were both keeping a close eye on the drive all morning; it was around two when Hopper’s familiar truck pulled down the long dirt path that curved off the main road. Steve sighed in relief–part of him had been dreading Gabriel’s dark BMW pulling up first. Hopefully, they still had another day to prepare.

[jewishrat420]

No one has ever flirted with Steve the way Eddie flirts with Steve.

And it's not like no one flirts with Steve. God, no, it's not like no one flirts with Steve. Steve can't walk into the grocery store without at least three sets of heads turning and focusing all their attention on him.

And he's not even trying to be cocky about it. That's just the reality he was gifted when he came out of his mother's womb looking like the world's freshest Adonis. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they changed the colloquialism to "Steve."

Regardless. For as many people like to flirt with him, make themselves known, filtering in and out of his orbit like willing planets, no one knows quite how to get him going like Eddie. Maybe it's that they're not as confident as he is, maybe they're scared of the rejection Eddie was born facing and will die knowing.

Maybe they're scared of ruining their chances. Maybe Eddie isn't.

For whatever reason, Eddie doesn't seem like he's scared. Even though there was a long time before he knew Steve was bi, was just as into the flirting as Eddie was, even though there was a chance (not like it'd ever happen, but the unknown was there) that Steve could have beaten him up just for calling him "sweetheart," he did it anyway. He got right up into Steve's space, close enough that Steve could get high off the remnants of the joint he'd smoked earlier, and gave him a look that offered everything.

And, God, Steve wanted it. He wanted it all.

And so that began months of what Steve has so aptly referred to as torture. Apt, because he knows what it's like. He has the scars and the fear of ice cream and needles to prove it.

But this... this is a different kind of torture. Mental, emotional, spiritual, whatever you call it-- this is meant to tear him apart from the inside out, meant to make him want to rip his own bones out from his body and offer them to Eddie if it meant the other man making a fucking move.

And Steve would, is the thing. He would absolutely make the first move-- it's what he usually does, anyway, and he's got a pretty damn good success rate for it.

But, for whatever reason, this feels different. This back and forth they have, the constant teasing, the sliding in and out of each other's orbits, unable and unwilling to refute the most fundamental laws of gravity... it's something special, at least to Steve. Something sacred.

Which is why, when Eddie calls Steve "Harrington" for the first time in months, his first response is to pout.

They're about halfway through splitting a joint, the sweet smoke curling around wisps of hair and parted lips and filtering in and out of the holes in their sweaters. The air outside is getting colder, thinner, sharper, as the winter months dreg on. But inside the trailer, it's comfortable and warm. Safe.

Steve's being a bit of a hog, and he's man enough to admit that. But he had a shitty day at work and all he wants is to feel nothing other than the weightless relaxation of a good high buzzing through his bones. Sue him for taking a little more than his fair share of the good stuff, even if it is Eddie's.

"Steve," Eddie whines, reaching his hand out and curling his fingers in request. "Give it over."

"No," Steve responds, just on the edge of whiny. He brings the joint to his lips and takes a long, slow, deep drag, feeling the sweet heat of the smoke burning in his lungs, taking up the space where oxygen should be. He goes a little dizzy with it, feels his eyes lower. "Mine."

Steve can't see it, but he knows Eddie's rolling his eyes. Can sense the shift in the air, can sense every little fucking thing about Eddie at any given moment.

"C'mon, Harrington, you're being a brat."

And, normally, Steve would find another aspect of that sentence to freak out about. Would zero in on the word brat and relish in the flare of heat it sends shooting up his spine like firework sparks. Would squint his eyes at Eddie and tilt his head in the way he knows makes him look good, would give him his cutest little smirk and say, "Who, me?" and would preen in the response it gets.

This time, though, he's much too focused on the other name Eddie used for him. The one he hasn't heard come out of Eddie's mouth since before he realized that Steve was, as he put it, "actually a good dude."

He doesn't realize he's pouting until the sudden silence in the room starts to creep in, make a home in the buzzing in his ears. He didn't realize that he didn't say anything, and neither did Eddie, and now they're sitting in a mess of their own making. Of Eddie's own making, really.

His next words come out without effort, without intent.

"Don't call me that."

He chances a look over at Eddie, at the risk of appearing as vulnerable as he feels, and to his distress, he can't get a read on the man. His dark eyebrows furrow, brown eyes squinting slightly, and his lips part like he wants to speak. He licks them. Steve's eyes follow the motion unintentionally.

"Call you what?" Eddie says on an exhale. "A brat?"

Steve shakes his head. "Harrington. Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie kind of softens, then, and Steve didn't realize he had stiffened until he isn't anymore. He sort of sinks into the couch, spreads his legs imperceptibly wider, and Steve wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the way his left knee brushes against Steve's just barely. Just enough for those heated sparks to send a couple pinpricks across his skin.

"No?" he says, looking over to meet Steve's gaze. His cheeks are flushed, whether from the weed or the heat of the room or the heat between them, and Steve's sure that his look the same. "What do you want me to call you, then?"

Steve's definitely blushing now. He looks away from Eddie, tucks his chin to his chest, lets the joint between his fingers burn away. Eddie takes it from him, gently, and brings it to his lips. Steve hears the paper crackling as he inhales.

His voice is quiet, almost meek, when he speaks. It's completely unlike Steve, completely unlike the persona he used to so proudly take on-- but then again, Eddie is completely unlike anyone that Steve has ever met. He's more real, more human, and in turn, Steve is too.

"...You know."

Eddie makes a little noise, then, something in the back of his throat that was born and died within the very same second it was released. Something soft, almost pained, like his body couldn't help the reaction it had to that sentence.

Steve watches the thin, long line of Eddie's arm reach forward and press the joint into the glass of the ashtray. He follows the motion until Eddie's hand settles into the rips over his knee, fingers intertwining with the thread. His pinkie is dangerously close to Steve's own sweatpant-covered skin, and he feels the contact as if Eddie were touching him.

Eddie's hand twitches like it wants to move, and Steve resists the urge to grab it, hold it within the warmth of his own palms.

"Do I?" Eddie says, his voice quieter than it was a moment ago. That thick silence fills the trailer once more, settling in between the soft buzzing of the lightbulb in the kitchen and the muffled humming of the crickets outside. Steve hears Eddie take a stuttering breath. "Tell me."

Steve sighs, feeling his chest burn as his heartbeat picks up. His throat pounds with the pulsing of it. He places his own hand on his right knee, pinkie finger edging closer and closer to the space where Eddie's meets his. Eddie's hand twitches again.

"Like it when you call me sweet things," he says on an exhale, as though getting it out all in one breath would make it easier. "Like how it makes me feel."

Eddie lets out another one of those noises, then, something more like a cut-off groan. His hand curls into the fabric of his jeans for no more than a second before he releases it, and Steve gets to watch as the blood blanches and then returns to his knuckles.

"Sweet things, huh?" he muses, voice only slightly strained. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say Eddie is nervous. "Like... Stevie?"

Steve hums. "Yeah. I like that."

Eddie's pinkie moves closer. Barely. Imperceptibly, if not for the way Steve is tuned into his every movement, like a dog to the sound of their owner's keys.

"Yeah?"

Steve hums again.

"What about... sweetheart?"

Steve closes his eyes. Lets out a shaky breath, inhales a smoother one.

"Yeah."

Steve feels something brush against his pinkie. Something warm.

"Honey?"

Steve nods, biting his lip. "Mhm."

Eddie lets out a quiet little laugh. "Even big boy?"

Steve returns it helplessly, feels the edges of a smile pulling at his lips. The air feels cold on his teeth, as though he's burning up from the inside out and anything outside of his own body is a cooling salve.

"Especially big boy."

Eddie laughs a little louder, and the jostling of his body brings his pinkie even closer to Steve's. Completely pressed against his own, now.

Steve swears he can feel his heartbeat through it. Or maybe it's his own.

"What about..." Eddie takes a breath. "Love?"

Steve's own breath hitches. He opens his eyes, looks at where their skin is touching in more than one place. He feels it, feels every point of contact where the cells that make Eddie are existing with the cells that make Steve. Wonders, maybe, if they stay here long enough, if they'll merge and mold over time. Become one.

"Yeah," Steve breathes. "I like that one a lot."

Eddie hums, and the room falls back into silence for a moment. Steve's skin burns where their fingers are touching. He moves his hand to the right, just barely, just enough to let Eddie know that he feels it. Just enough to ask Eddie if he does, too.

His response is overwhelming.

Eddie moves his hand to the left, solidifies all the points of contact between them, and Steve feels like he's exploding. Feels like a bubbling pit of lava that's set to burst, to overflow, like it can't hold back anymore. Like it's tried for so long that it's hurting, now, pressurized and boiling and hot, way too fucking hot.

And then, Eddie crosses his pinkie over Steve's, and Steve thinks he's dying.

He takes in a sharp breath like it's the last one he'll ever get, and he doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it. He knows Eddie is right there with him, knows he's not the only one feeling this irrefutable pull like gravity between them. Knows, hopes, it's only a matter of time before they collide.

Eddie hums again. He taps his pinkie once over the smallest of Steve's knuckles, almost like he's making a decision. He takes a long, slow breath before he speaks.

"You know which one's my favorite?"

Steve's throat clicks. "Which?"

"Look at me."

Steve turns his head to the right for no more than a second before Eddie's lips are on his.

It's hungry, it's indulgent, it's immediately addictive. It feels like breathing.

Eddie presses his whole body against Steve's, and he can feel the way his tendons flex where his hand is covering the back of Steve's. Where their pinkies meet, their fingers intertwine and cross over one another like the roots of a tree, their bodies the whole mycorrhizal network.

The next word is spoken against Steve's lips, and Steve can feel the way his mouth forms around it. Decides, from this moment on, that he never wants to hear it another way.

"Baby."

Steve's exhale is more of a moan, a dying sound that, like Eddie's before, lived for only a moment in his throat before pushing through the wall of his lips. Eddie takes it, holds it in his own mouth, swallows it down hungrily and slides his tongue against Steve's as though asking for more.

"That's--" Steve pants, getting his hands on Eddie's hips and pulling until he's seated in his lap. "Mine too."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, his lips still pressed against Steve's. Their words are muffled against each other, but they don't need to hear them to understand. They only need to feel the outline of them, the shape of the consonants and vowels against and around each other's tongues. They only need to press their bodies together and know, intimately, the meaning in each other's hearts.

"Yeah. Want you to call me that forever."

This time, Steve feels Eddie's laughter against his lips. His chest. Feels it bubble up in the space between his ribs, feels it flow into his mouth like a river, swallows it down like the first glass of water after a run. Feels his own creep up behind his teeth in return, gives it back to Eddie like an offering, who takes it greedily. Hungrily. Gratefully.

"Think that can be arranged, baby."

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's a mechanic, has a shop in Indy. It's only got two bays, but he owns it, he saved up the money, it's his. He runs it with Wayne, is building up a customer base. He loves it.

Within the year, a bakery opens up next door, separated from Eddie's shop by a narrow alley. He has a perfect view into the bakery's kitchen from the shop's office, and almost immediately catches a glimpse of the drop-dead gorgeous guy behind the mixing bowl. He's got sun-golden skin, swoopy brown hair, wide puppy dog eyes, the poutiest mouth, and a face dotted with freckles. Eddie gapes at him for a solid two-minutes, salivating over the bunch and pull of his muscles as he kneads a ball of dough. A wet dream come true.

Eddie's always sneaking glances at the shop next door, can't seem to keep his gaze off the most beautiful man he's ever seen. Over the next few months, he becomes familiar with this herd of kids that hang around the bakery at all hours. There's one, curly-haired and mouthy, who often makes the baker frown with his hands on his hips, but as soon as the boy walks away, the baker smiles all wide and fond.

It's a silly crush, no big deal. He has a weakness for brown-eyed pretty boys, so what? It's not like he's going to do anything crazy, like make a move.

It's past midnight, a few months after the bakery opens, and Eddie's in his little office, doing the monthly accounting. He's exhausted, tired of calculators and numbers, when a flash of light catches at the corner of his eye. He blinks a few times, sure it's the exhaustion setting in, but it doesn't go away.

Instead, there's a light on over at the bakery. It's a kitchen light, and the baker is standing at the stainless steel counter, looking unlike Eddie's ever seen. His hair is a soft wave, swooping onto his forehead. He wears grey sweatpants and a yellow sweatshirt. Tonight, his movements are less precise and practiced; he's slow and contemplative as he gathers ingredients and mixing bowls.

It's been long enough Eddie should look away, but he forgets that it isn't a dream, that he's actually watching the baker roll up his sleeves as he whisks. It's inevitable that, eventually, the baker catches Eddie staring. He just smiles, though, and waves. Eddie manages to return the greeting before awareness smacks him in the face, and he flees the office and the building in acute embarrassment.

They share waves after that. Smiles. Laughter once when Eddie's reading over an invoice and walking, smacks face-first into the doorframe. Eye rolls after the baker gets into an impassioned argument with the curly-haired boy, one that involves a copious amount of thrown flour.

They exchange waves and smiles and goofy expressions, and it shouldn't escalate further, but one day Eddie steps into the shop's waiting room to find the curly-haired boy sitting behind the reception desk, flipping through Eddie's new dnd guide.

"What." Eddie says.

"You," says the boy. He's pointing and glaring and Eddie is a little scared.

"Me?"

"You like dnd?"

He hopes his sigh of relief isn't audible. "Best DM this town has ever seen." He postures and smirks.

"Doubt it," the boy says.

Eddie lets out an offended squeak, dramatically smashes his hand over his heart. "Insulted! Maligned! In my own place of business! Oh!" He falls into a dramatic swoon.

The boy snickers. "I'm Dustin," he says.

"Eddie." They shake hands and Eddie does not laugh at how overly serious this is all is. "Sir Dustin, what brings you to my fine establishment?"

Dustin shrugs. "Steve."

"Steve?"

Dustin rolls his eyes. "The bakery."

"Oh," Eddie says. Steve. The baker is Steve.

He's having a little trouble breathing, sure he's done something wrong, a distinct feeling of doom settling on his shoulders. "Why?"

"He won't stop talking about the mechanic next door but refuses to introduce himself. Plus, I saw your D20 tattoo the other day."

Eddie's barely hearing him, reeling over the knowledge that Steve talks about him to his gaggle of children. He barely hears the rest of the conversation, but the next day Dustin shows up with the rest of the kids, Lucas, Mike, Max, El, Erica, Will.

They're loud, chaotic, wild, and somehow--before they leave--they've coerced him into running a one-shot for them. They come by in twos and threes for the rest of the week, eating all the snacks in the waiting room mini-fridge and talking at him and Wayne as they work.

It's Friday, it's sweltering, he's closing the shop for the night with the top of his coveralls hanging off hips, his sweat soaked undershirt tossed behind a tool chest. He steps into the waiting area and nearly jumps out of his skin to find a man there, holding a plastic container.

Steve.

"H--hi," he stutters. And fuck, he's shirtless. He's standing in front of Steve for the first time and his nipples are out. This is it, the moment he finally dies of embarrassment.

Steve's eyes are locked on Eddie's torso for a few seconds too long, cheeks flushing. He blinks, finally looking at Eddie's face. "I'm Steve. From the--the bakery next door?" He points. "I--uh--I wanted to stop by and apologize?"

"What?" Eddie asks. There's too much happening for him to keep up.

"Um, the kids?"

And Eddie can't fathom why he needs to apologize, can only stare at Steve in confused disbelief.

"It's just. They can be kind of a handful. I used to babysit Mike and the whole group of them started following me around, and--Anyway, I think Dustin took it upon himself to try to introduce us. I've been wondering where they keep disappearing off to, and Max told me today that they're here with you, and I thought I probably owed you an apology. You're trying to work and I know they can be a bunch of shitheads, and oh my god, I'm rambling, I really am turning into Robin, Jesus Christ."

Eddie is fucked. Oh he's so fucked. He's charmed, endeared, can't stop smiling at Steve who is somehow even more beautiful up close.

"I forgive you," Eddie says. "They're nice kids."

Steve lets out a hard breath. "They are, huh?" He smiles. "Don't let them hear you say that. You'll never get a moment's peace. And they shouldn't have been over here bothering you, anyway."

"It wasn't a bother. Though, they did eat all my snacks and swindle me into running a one-shot for them. Still not sure how that happened."

Steve laughs and his eyes crinkle at the corner. So fucked. So fucked. "I should've known that you play that game of theirs."

"Aw, not a dnd fan, Stevie?"

Steve blushes. "It's--there's a lot of math."

Eddie laughs, already knows he's never getting over this one. "You bake professionally."

"It's different?" Steve laughs. "Fine, fine! You got me, it's not my thing."

"Bet I could change your mind," Eddie says. He doesn't mean to be flirting, can't stop himself.

"I bet you could," Steve agrees. He moves his hand, like maybe he's going to run it through his swoop of hair, then seems to remember he's holding baked goods. "Oh, uh, please take these cupcakes as my apology for accidentally saddling you with my group of semi-feral children."

"You're already forgiven, but I'll never say no to a cupcake."

"You should stop by the shop tomorrow, then" Steve says. "On the house."

"You've already given me these." He wiggles the cupcakes in Steve's pretty face.

"I only save the free samples for the hottest customers." Steve does run a hand through his hair now, and it's dorky as fuck, but Eddie still feels like he's died and this is heaven. "See you tomorrow?"

Eddie can only nod as Steve backs out of the office with a cheeky little wave.

He goes to the bakery the next day, sure he just let his crush get away from him and imagined the entire interaction with Steve. Except, when he walks in, Steve smiles all big and pretty in his little blue apron, invites Eddie back to the kitchen.

And if they share their first kiss against the stainless steel countertops, it's between them, Wayne, and all the kids who spy on them from the shop's office window.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Country singer Steve Harrington, who has always leaned more into the pop country side of things (think Wanted by Hunter Hayes), but wants his third album to be more true to old school country roots.

His label agrees but only if he works with Eddie Munson, a rock star who had to leave the spotlight when he got kicked out of his band for, well, rockstar behavior gone too far.

Steve isn't amused, especially because he doesn't care for metal music or rock star shenanigans. He was "raised better" and doesn't think Eddie could sit down and write songs with actual emotion and feeling.

Cue long songwriting sessions where Eddie is trying his hardest to be on his best behavior because he knows this is his last shot at being taken seriously, and Steve being surprised every time Eddie proves that he's talented as a songwriter and musician, well outside the scope of just metal and rock.

They write a song that they're both so proud of, Steve asks if he'll record it with him just for fun. The released version would just be Steve.

Eddie agrees.

It's an incredible duet, something country music has needed forever, but Eddie doesn't want that version out there.

The label genuinely accidentally releases their version instead of the Steve only version. As soon as they realize, they remove it from official places, but it's too late.

Fans have already heard it and have gone crazy over it, begging them to let the radio play this version, begging for this version to be available for streaming. The Steve version is great, but it doesn't have the emotion that's laced in the tone of them singing together.

Eddie finally gives in when he sees how happy Steve is about the reaction to it.

But the label decides they want them to tour together, have Eddie work as his opening act, perform his acoustic songs that haven't been officially released anywhere. Eddie can't do it.

He can't go back into that lifestyle. He couldn't do it to his band, who made him promise that he'd come back to them when he got his shit straight. He can't do it to his fans, who stuck by him through some rough shit, but probably wouldn't support a fucking country music career. He definitely can't do it to Steve, who deserves to have someone with him who can be trusted not to go off the deep end.

So he runs. He hides. His uncle welcomes him home, congratulates him on finally embracing his country roots.

It doesn't take long for Steve to find him.

Because he'd been more honest with Steve than he'd ever been with anyone. He told him about his childhood, his Uncle Wayne, his struggle to make it. He told him about his worse struggle when he did make it, how he got in with the wrong people, the wrong things. Prioritized the lifestyle more than his own life.

Of course Steve knew where he'd run to.

Of course Steve came to remind him what his life could be if he allowed himself to find new priorities.

Steve's lips were pretty persuasive, but not nearly as persuasive as his promises to remind him what he could have if he kept his life his priority.

"But what if I let you down?"

"You won't."

"But-"

"No. You won't. You're gonna do amazing things for yourself. And I'm gonna be there to see it happen. That's all."

And he was.

They co-wrote Steve's entire album while Eddie worked on recording his own original songs. He liked that it was an old school rock and roll feel, some blues, some country, some hints of metal sneaking in on a couple songs.

He called his band to come help him with a song, hesitant to even ask, but they came. Of course they came.

He called his Uncle Wayne to play banjo on a song, worried that he wouldn't like the heavier electric guitar notes over it. Of course he loved being involved.

When their tour started, he let himself actually feel nervous.

But instead of running, he looked at the man who supported him through it, even when his own career was on the line.

Of course Steve was there.

[alchemistc]

"What's this?" Eddie asks, wide eyed and curious as he shifts the papers on Steve's desk, shuffling past unopened mail and timestamps for the page buried beneath it all, and Steve has just enough time to turn in horror before Eddie unearths it.

It - his shame, his fear, his heart laid out in graphite against a backsplash of fine white paper. He'd splurged on the stack of it hidden in one of his desk drawers, a luxury he couldn't really afford anymore but one he'd decided was worth it now that his parents had made it clear they wouldn't be back any time soon to take it from him.

He knows every line of it, every piece of shading, all the highlights he'd agonized over and the spots where he couldn't be satisfied by the shape of the nose, the angle of the jawline.

Eddie takes it in for long enough that Steve can feel time dilating around them, an infinite gasping maw of nothingness and everything all at once.

And when he's taken his fill of it, his gaze flits up again. Meets Steve's, and holds.

"It's me."

Steve breathes. In, out, two careful measures. He swallows. He contemplates, just for a moment, leaping out the window. He breathes. He swallows, again, his throat tight. He breathes.

Eddie in profile, bottom lip pinched by his teeth. Eddie, with dark shadows tilted across his jaw, his nose, his Adams apple, where a curtain of hair blocks out the light. Eddie, eyes crinkled at the corners, smile lines rushing into the heavy dip of a dimple barely visible beside the fall of his hair.

Eddie.

"But -." Eddie stares. At Steve, for a moment, before his eyes flit back to the stark lines of the portrait Steve had liked just enough not to take out and burn with the rest of them.

"I'm sorry," Steve tells him, and he means it. Sorry, for not saying anything earlier. Sorry, for accepting Eddie's friendship and taking advantage of his easy way with people. Sorry for drinking in the sight of him and squirreling away the details of each moment, hoarding each memory away for the long winter that would come to be when Eddie eventually moved on.

"You..." Eddie swallows. Breathes. In and out, a rattle of bones and teeth and sinew Steve is intimately familiar with. "It's me," he says, again, confusion furling out over his brow.

But it's not - he's not -

"I thought you'd be mad."

Eddie startles. "Mad? Mad for - why would I...?" Eyes dart to Steve, studying him. And he knows - Steve has recounted to him every missed birthday and every cool and quiet dinner with his parents, every detail of his surface level friendships before Robin, every hurt he and Nancy ever doled out to one another in their anger and fear and pain. He knows.

He knows Steve just as surely as Steve knows him.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says, in that soft, sweet voice he has for broken things he means to repair.

Steve swallows, and he breathes.

[2jihiir0]

very late to the party but happy #steddieweek2023 !!

Day 1 : pining 💗💦

“🎶give me somebody to love🎵”

[stevebabey]

@scooprtroopr ur tags on this post inspired a lil something and well, here you go friend <3 / also omg this fits for @steddie-week’s prompt pining! tehe / you can also read it over on ao3 :)

Steve gets that this is how karma works.

You do something bad, you don’t have the best intentions, you trample on one or two people’s feelings selfishly, yadda yadda. Then what do you know? Next month, it’s happening to you. What goes around comes around, right?

That’s how karma works. Steve gets that.

And yet, the sting in the morning when another hookup has crept out in the night feels so goddamn unshakeable. It slices through his ego, hitting every feeling on the way, and cuts right down the bone, and it hurts.

But it’s karma though, Steve knows that. He’s left a girl more than once or twice, and snuck back out the window he had crept into. Stumbled back to his car in the early morning hours.

(Steve pointedly ignores the old part of him that was- is so hesitant to stay — after the iciness of his first ever hookup, who had wrinkled her nose at the thought of him staying the night.

Who had patted him on the cheek in a near condescending way, a girl the year above him, and said, “Don’t overstay your welcome, yeah?”)

So when the other side of the bed is empty when he wakes, he knows he’s lost another game of ‘who can sneak out on who?’

Which Steve hates — it’s why he stopped going over to his dates house and instead started bringing them back to his. Hoping they might read that his invitation to stay the night extended right out til breakfast. Hell, til lunch if they wanted.

No one has come close to overstaying their welcome in the Harrington house.

Empty sheets rip a new ache in Steve’s chest and he groans, a pitiful noise because— of course, he hasn’t stayed.

Karma has the biggest bone to pick with Steve Harrington and he was really hoping it would be done after all these years. Evidently not.

But… Steve can’t help how much more this one hurts because this one was Eddie.

Steve tries to not let regret coil in his gut. Rolling over he buries his face into his pillow, eyes scrunched shut as he tries to think it over logically. Rationally. Ignores the burning in his throat.

Maybe he’s a fool for thinking Eddie would be different from the past.

But the buildup — before there had been flirting, there had been friendship, proper company between the two of them where there were no expectations. That may very well be due to the fact both of them were dudes but… Steve was so sure. So much of him believed Eddie would still be here when he woke up.

Steve huffs a loud sigh into the pillow. Pretends his chest doesn’t hurt a little bit.

“It’s fine,” He murmurs to himself, voice thick with sleep. His fists clench into the sheets for a moment. “It’s fine.”

He drags himself up and out of bed. Tugs on some stray sweats hanging over the back of his desk chair and ducks into the bathroom. Staring in the mirror, hair tousled and eyes still sleepy, Steve eyes the shower through the reflection. He should, probably, but he might get stuck on a loop in there.

Where did he go wrong this time? Why didn’t he stay? Why didn’t any of them stay? Why did—

Steve splashes cold water on his face instead, rubbing probably a bit too forcefully at his eyes. He spies the faint pink shape of Eddie’s lips, a mark left on his neck. His fingers grace over it lightly, softly, like a lover would.

Memories hazed with lust remind him of how it had got there, Eddie’s body on his, Eddie’s hands in his hair, Eddie— without thinking, Steve scrubs at the skin harshly. He wishes it wasn’t there. Wishes there wasn’t any remnant of Eddie left behind.

Steve doesn’t need any mementos to remind him he’s been left behind again.

He needs food, needs to get on with his day, Steve decides. The bathroom door swings closed behind him and Steve tries his best to wrangle his thoughts as he wanders out to the top of the stairs.

A run. That’s what he needs to clear his head. A long run til his heart is pounding in his chest so hard it hurts, til his muscles start burning, breathes coming too fast and his head is finally fucking quiet. Yep, that’s precisely what he needs to shake the sting of last night.

Steve’s so enwrapped in his head, thoughts swirling, that he get manages to get halfway down the hall to the kitchen before he hears the radio. It’s not loud, just enough to carry out the kitchen. Strange. He doesn’t remember leaving it on last night.

His feet carry him into the kitchen, another yawn creeping up and he rubs at his eyes, blinking a bit blearily and— and stops in his tracks. There’s someone at the stove.

Eddie’s at the stove.

Standing in the morning sunlight, hair lighter than ever, puckered scars along his arms standing out. He’s clearly ransacked Steve’s drawers, a pair of Steve’s plaid pj pants hanging low on his hips, his own softened band tee from yesterday still on. It’s had its sleeves hacked off, the fabric curling up into little rolls. Steve feels his stomach rise halfway up his throat, his hopes going with it. His heart does a strange stumbling pitter-patter.

He must make a noise because suddenly Eddie’s peaking over his shoulder and smiling at him.

“Hey,” Eddie says, shifting a bit to turn more toward him. Steve can see that he’s cooking, something delicious wafting up from the sizzling pan. His chest tightens, pure surprise wrapping around his sternum and gripping - so much, he can’t control the expression on his face.

“Hi,” Steve breathes. He’s still frozen where he is. He stayed. Steve blinks, taking in the scene before him; Eddie has clearly been puttering around, putting together some sort of breakfast. He fucking stayed and he’s cooking.

Eddie takes it the wrong way. He skittishly looks over the benches, covered in his mess, and tugs on the ends of his hair nervously. “I- it’s a mess, I know, I’m real sorry. I was gonna clean it, I just thought you might like…”

He trails off, unable to get a read on Steve’s expression. Steve doesn’t blame him but he can’t fucking stop his chest from feeling like it’s being pulled open, his heart from feeling like it’s soaring. He huffs an awed laugh, a smile curling at his lips.

Eddie deflates a bit in his relief, giving his own smile. He turns back to the stove quickly, giving the skillet a bit of a shake to keep it from burning and Steve draws closer, feet finally moving. Eddie watches him from the corner of his eye, barely biting back his grin as Steve gets closer. He hovers, feels the heat of Eddie’s back they’re so close.

He tries to feel brave — he stayed — and keeps his closeness, peering over Eddie’s shoulder at the skillet on the stove. It’s the Munson Special that Eddie’s cooked a few times for him over at the trailer; eggs, potatoes, shit tons of cheese, maybe a vegetable if he’s feeling healthy.

“Was gonna bring it to you in bed, but,” Eddie laughs, still tinged in nervousness. He sets down the spatula to tuck his hair behind both ears, glancing sideways at Steve as if trying to understand his silence.

He stayed and he cooked and he’s nervous. Steve thinks he might be holding his breath in disbelief, head dizzy with relief. With affection.

Very slowly, Steve’s hands move and, like he’s waiting for Eddie to flinch away, settles then very gently onto Eddie’s waist. His fingers curl into the soft fabric and Eddie makes a little chirp of happiness and leans back.

Leans into Steve a bit, like he wants his touch the morning after everything and Steve releases a shuddering breath, hooking his chin over Eddie’s shoulder. His hands grow a little more bold, sliding around to hug him around the middle.

Eddie’s cheeks have turned pink and his grin hasn’t faltered.

“Made me—” Steve starts, but his voice is a bit raspy. He clears his throat, avoids Eddie’s burning stare. “Y’made me breakfast?”

Eddie nods, his curls brushing against Steve’s cheek as he does. His tummy is warm beneath Steve’s hand and his hair smells good and Steve just wants to burrow into him- he tucks himself closer and is rewarded with a content noise from Eddie.

“That’s not weird, is it?” Eddie asks suddenly, picking up the spatula again and beginning to fiddle needlessly with the food. He flips it once, then again, so it’s on the same side as it was before.

He sounds a bit sheepish when he says, “I’m not sure- I haven’t ever really— I’m actually just gonna shut the hell up before I say anything stupid.”

Steve laughs quietly. His hands tighten around Eddie’s middle, head tilting so he can bury his grin into his shoulder— his heart is going haywire, going a million miles an hour, because karma is finally through with Steve Harrington and he gets to have this.

“S’not weird,” Steve mumbles. He thinks about pressing a kiss into Eddie’s shoulder.

“Ha, you said snot,” Eddie retorts with a childish snort and Steve can’t help it, he laughs at that too, muffled laughter into his t-shirt. Then he presses a kiss to Eddie’s shoulder, quick as lightning. Rests his chin back on it like nothing happened.

Eddie still stiffens just a bit- turns his head just a bit to glance at Steve and fuck, Steve can’t help the way his stomach swoops.

Because Eddie softens him unbearably with those nervous brown eyes, his pink lips twisted as he tries to hold back his grin. Steve’s beginning to understand that both of them seem equally surprised that this is happening.

Eddie’s free hand moves, pausing only briefly in a moment's hesitance, before it covers one of Steve’s on his tummy. It’s cold, much colder than Steve’s, and he covers it with one of his own instinctively.

Eddie’s trembling fingers give him a little squeeze. Steve thinks he must be able to feel how hard his heart is beating from where his chest is pressed against his back. It’s a lot to deal with; this perfect morning in the sun, the soft sound of the radio, the sweet boy in his arms.

They’re both grinning to themselves. Eddie focuses back on the food before him, doing all his work with one hand, and starts a little hum.

The radio switches to a love song.

[hotluncheddie]

denny’s line cook eddie who always works the weekend night shifts. they start late enough to still let him still play gigs, awake and wired and needing something to fill his hands. every week though, he falls more and more in love with a boy that comes in late every saturday night. so late it’s almost morning.

he’s usually giggly and tipsy and flush, always sitting in the same booth with the same girl (maybe the coolest girl eddie’s ever seen). he always orders the same plate of pancakes and bacon and always closes his eyes so sweetly around his first bite. like he’d been thinking about it all night, like he couldn’t wait, like he’s starving.

eddie watches him, from his little window at the pass, watches him enjoy the food eddie made him. always in whatever club outfit he’d decided on that week, sometimes mesh shirts that show of the bit of softness at his middle. or with a hanky around his neck like a cowboy. or with glitter on his cheeks and shorts cut so high eddie’s left breathless over being able to see the squish of his thighs, the curve of his ass. sometimes though, it’s just a polo and jeans, and thats one of eddie’s favourites, it’s when he looked most comfortable.

every saturday eddie watches him have his fill, sit back in the booth and sigh. lay a hand on his stomach lightly, with delicate fingers and a wide palm. and eddie falls more in love.

he always watches the two leave, now quiet and sleepy after winding down for the night, and eddie sighs sadly every time, when he hears the bell tinkle and signal their exit.

he doesn’t even know his name.

steve 🥞

final <3

(this was gonna be a little thing for @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx 5+1 but then i decided it should just go here <;3 @pearynice & @scoops-aboy86 think u might like it too <3)

[mixsethaddams]

Steddie fic that was originally a twitter thread. Hurt/comfort, light angst, pining Steve, happy ending, roughly 6.5k words. Enjoy!

Look. It wasn’t like Steve was jealous, ok? Envious of the situation, maybe. But not jealous of the person. He was still burnt by Nancy rejecting him for Jonathan again. That was all.

After Vecna, he’d thrown himself into caring for everyone else just like always. Visited Max every day and helped her get used to her wheelchair. Drove Lucas to see her. Drove Robin to meet Vicky. He even helped Eddie and Wayne move into their new house.

Steve liked spending time around Eddie and his uncle. It was the type of family unit he never thought actually existed. He couldn’t fathom living somewhere so cramped and not tearing each other apart. He liked being alone with Eddie in the yard for a quick smoke, too.

Steve was kind of disappointed when there was no reason to spend time with them after they were all moved in. He told himself it was just because he didn’t have much else to occupy his time once Max came back home and Robin got her driving license.

The few times Steve did catch a passing glance at Eddie after he’d pick Dustin up from a D&D session, he had to fight against the urge to come up with an excuse to stay. He just… he was sure hanging out with Eddie would help ease the loneliness that he felt. That’s all.

So when the kids suggested a party at the end of the summer before going back to school, Steve thought it would be the perfect excuse to get some quality time in Eddie’s orbit. It wasn’t like he wanted them to be best friends or anything, just closer than they were.

They were probably too different to ever really get along in any meaningful way, but still. Steve still wanted to be near him. A male friend his own age, right? Is that so bad? He hadn’t had one since Tommy. He missed the specific type of camaraderie that came with it.

Steve was delighted when Eddie sat beside him in his kitchen on the day of the party. Their elbows knocked while they spoke to each other and those around them. They laughed and whispered behind their hands at the kids. It was perfect.

Well. At least until Steve had to excuse himself to make a phone call. Only… that was a lie. Because Steve was sitting on the floor of his bathroom with tears streaming down his face and a tightness in his chest he hadn’t ever felt before.

Everything had been going so well... Until the doorbell rang and Eddie jumped up to answer it, leaving Steve halfway through a sentence. When Eddie came back, smile so wide his eyes were practically crinkled shut, he introduced the whole group to his new girlfriend.

It was easy for Steve to pass it off as a bad call with his parents when Robin came looking for him twenty minutes later. He told her he’d be fine, but had a headache now and was ducking out early. Not the first time it happened so it was easy to believe.

Steve curled up on his bed while the party wound down downstairs. He found himself simultaneously straining to hear Eddie’s voice, and flinching when he heard that unfamiliar high pitched laugh. Her laugh.

It sounded like everyone liked her. There was no awkward silences and her voice was wound right into the cracks of every conversation. Steve clamped his hands over his ears when he finally couldn’t take it anymore. He was happy for Eddie. He was!

He just missed that New Relationship phase. It wasn’t like Steve couldn’t go out and get laid any time he wanted. He could. He did. He just always ended up wishing he was hanging out with Eddie instead after leaving them back at their houses.

Steve sniffled and shook his head roughly against his pillow. He was being selfish. He knew that. His chance to have a closer friendship with Eddie was ruined by some girl. Vague memories of high school name calling wormed their way back into Steve’s brain.

It was a bitter thought, to think how much Tommy Hagan would be surprised by Eddie having a real life girlfriend and not just someone that everyone was sure he’d made up. Steve half thought about calling his old friend to crack some jokes about it, make a little fun.

It only made the hollow feeling inside him grow to think like that. He felt silly, really. Getting so upset over a person who still thought of him as a high school bully dating someone. Steve fell asleep as the sun rose, hours after everyone went home.

They went everywhere together. But that’s what couples did, wasn’t it? They spent time together. Steve just kind of wished Eddie didn’t have to bring her, Sara, along with him every time he came to Family Video.

Steve felt himself getting almost angry whenever they walked through the door, holding hands and cooing over each other. He’d find a way to busy himself to avoid dealing with them and a couple of times even point blank ignored them.

The day he caught them kissing in the store was not his finest hour. He snapped that it was the middle of a Saturday afternoon and to get the fuck out, don’t do that shit when there’s kids around. Eddie looked confused, almost hurt.

He muttered something about kissing not being illegal while he pulled Sara out of the store behind him. She was sheepishly giggling and Steve wanted to yell at her to fuck off again. People getting boyfriends or girlfriends never bothered him this much before.

Robin finally getting with Vickie never made him jealous. Dustin and Suzie, Will and Mike, none of them. He sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“What is wrong with you?” asked Robin, appearing behind him. “Since when do you throw people out for kissing?”

“I just don’t need to see it,” said Steve. He turned to grab a pile of tapes to restock.

“Are you jealous?” teased Robin.

“No,” snapped Steve, louder than he intended. Robin stood in silent shock. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I just… I miss that, I guess,”

Robin eyed him carefully.

“You miss what, exactly?” she asked. “Eddie? I didn’t know you guys were close,”

“No, not…” Steve sighed again. “I just don’t like friends ditching us for someone they barely know. That’s all,”

Robin pursed her lips.

She knew as well as Steve did that was almost the opposite of what Eddie was doing. He brought Sara along to get-togethers, and invited everyone to join them when they went to Indy for the day, or to the quarry to swim. Everyone else had welcomed her warmly.

Because she was nice. And isn’t that just the fucking worst? Steve tried his hardest to deny it to himself but she was a sweetheart. It was no wonder they all loved her. A stone settled in his stomach when he thought that Eddie might actually love her too.

No one fought back too hard against Steve when he kept skipping out on spending time with everyone. His mood lately had been enough to make them almost glad that the dark cloud wouldn’t be joining them. He preferred to sit and stew by himself anyway.

He’d hang out with Robin like normal but even she was starting to run out of ways to avoid talking about Eddie. Because people had noticed. They’d have to be blind not to. It was painfully obvious that whenever Eddie (and Sara) was mentioned, Steve soured.

Steve couldn’t even blame everyone else for finding it awkward. Eddie was their friend and they wanted to be around him. That’s all Steve wanted too! They were on the same side here! Once or twice he felt like throwing a tantrum and reminding them HE was there first.

Especially Robin and Dustin. Whenever he was feeling particularly sore about his failure of an attempt to build a closer relationship with Eddie, he wondered why they had managed to get what he wanted.

It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with him. He used to be the most popular guy in school! He had charm! It should have been so easy to get Eddie to want to be around him too. Steve often found himself wishing Eddie was next to him watching tv at home.

Just a subtle thing. He’d hear a joke on some sitcom and wonder if Eddie would find it funny. Or if the latest song on the radio would make him nod his head. Steve thought back to one of the days he helped Eddie and Wayne move into their house.

There was a song playing downstairs while they hung blinds in his room. Steve couldn’t remember the song or the tune, but he could tell you exactly which one of the freckles on Eddie’s nose were covered with tiny paint splashes. All he could remember was Eddie.

And see, Steve’s not an idiot. He knows, okay? He’s known ever since Sara turned up in his fucking kitchen and he felt like Eddie’s smile was sharp enough to slit his throat. He fought it from the start. Told himself again and again that it was nothing. It’d pass.

Throwing them out of the store was all Steve needed to admit to himself that maybe a closer friendship wasn’t all he’d been hoping for, when he lay awake at night wondering what would happen if he just drove on over there. He liked to drift to sleep thinking about it.

Robin caught on quick. She wasn’t dumb either, you see. She was able to see the way Steve’s brows turned down a split second before furrowing when the happy couple came into the store on a friday night. She never mentioned it, but Steve knew she knew.

It wasn’t until well into the winter that Steve actually saw Eddie without Sara attached to his hip. He came through the door while Steve and Robin were preparing to close up the store for the night, rapping his knuckles on the counter to get their attention.

Robin shot Steve a careful look before greeting him and asking what movie he wanted.

“Nah not tonight,” Steve heard him tell her from where he’d turned his back to rewind tapes.

“Just here for a visit?” asked Robin.

“I’m on my way to give Sara a ride home from work,”

Steve’s stomach clenched at the mention of her name.

“I’m actually here to invite you guys out somewhere, week after next one,” said Eddie. “A party, kind of,”

“Oh yeah?” asked Robin brightly. Steve knew she loved parties. “What’s the occasion?”

“Well,” said Eddie with a long breath. “Sara’s got some family up in Michigan, and her cousin offered her a job running the place she owns,” Steve had stopped moving. Please. Please no. “And it’s too good to turn down soooo,”

Eddie cleared his throat.

“I’m throwing a going away party,” finished Eddie.

“For Sara?” said Robin. “Oh that’s so sweet,”

Steve could tell Robin was still a half step behind. He squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could. Please, not this….

Eddie let out a small laugh, he sounded almost nervous.

“Actually, uh,” Eddie drummed his fingertips on the counter. “For both of us,” Steve opened his eyes and felt his breath shorten as Eddie continued. “I’m going with her,”

Steve, back still turned, gripped the vhs case in his hand so hard he could feel the edges about to crack.

“Wait, you’re…” Robin stuttered. “What?”

“I’m going with her,” repeated Eddie. “To Michigan. She asked me to come last weekend,”

“She says there’s some metal bars I can try find work in,” explained Eddie. Steve could hear the edge of excitement in his voice. “And maybe I’ll join a new band up there too, who knows,”

“Your band!” exclaimed Robin. “Oh god, what are they going to do without you?”

“They’ll figure it out,” said Eddie. Steve could practically hear him shrugging. “Better off without my reputation holding them back anyway,”

Steve focused on keeping his breathing steady. He picked up another tape, hoping his shaking hands weren’t too obvious.

“This is…” Robin started. “Eddie are you sure about this?”

“What?” he asked. “Yeah! I mean this is the fresh start I wanted and Saras great. All I can think about is how she wants me there, no-one wants me anywhere,”

Steve held back the scoff that built in his throat

“And I’m happy for you,” said Robin. “We all are-" She reached back and placed a hand on Steve’s back, which he subtly shook by moving sideways. “-but isn’t this a little, I don’t know, soon? You’ve only been together a couple months,”

Eddie was quiet for a beat.

“This is something I’ve dreamed about, this chance,” said Eddie flatly. “New life, great girl. Whats your issue?”

“Eddie its not that easy to-“

“Buckley?” Eddie cut her off quickly. “Either be supportive or don’t okay? I already got this lecture from Wayne”

“I just-“

“I really don’t need to hear it from anyone else” said Eddie. “Am I putting your name on the guestlist or not?”

Robin sighed.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be there,” she said. “Vickie too,”

“Great!” said Eddie, instantly brighter, a sharp edge to it now. “Harrington? You too?”

Steve spoke over his shoulder.

“Working that night,” he said simply. “Can’t,”

“Seriously?” said Eddie. “You don’t even know what night it’s on!"

“Yeah well,” said Steve, finally turning around to look Eddie in the eye. “It’s probably a safe bet so, count me out,”

“I don’t get you, man,” mumbled Eddie, looking him up and down. Steve shrugged and turned his head to watch the lone customer browsing through the aisles.

“Enjoy the party,” said Steve simply.

“Whatever,” said Eddie, pushing off the counter and going out the door.

“Steve…” said Robin gently.

“Don’t.” He warned.

“Are you really not going?” she asked.

“I can’t watch that,” he told her. The customer waved him over. Before he went to them, he looked to Robin again. “Don’t try to make me,” he said.

She just nodded.

Steve stuck to his word and didn’t go to the party. He had started to get angry about everything, truth be told. He felt a flare in his stomach when he thought about why he had to fall for someone who not only didn’t like him back, but was leaving the state too.

It didn’t seem fair. All Steve wanted in life was someone to love, but everytime he tried to open himself up to it, he got knocked back. He browsed a magazine in the gas station that gave the advice “get over them by getting under someone else” in large bold letters.

So thats what he’d been doing. Steve had called up every girl he knew with a pretty smile and spent every single night, getting over Eddie. It was easy to lie to himself and pretend it was working.

Whenever any of the kids came by the store to rent a movie, Steve pretended to be busier than he was to avoid them. They all had stories about Eddie, reminiscing about good times and getting sad in the run up to his leaving date. Steve didn’t need to hear it.

One night, a quiet Saturday right before closing, Steve counted to 10 and asked Robin how the party went. Her smile was tight.

“It was fun,” she said gently.

“And…” Steve took a deep breath. “Eddie had a good time?”

Robin’s eyes were soft.

“He did,” she told Steve. “Sara bought him a new guitar, as a surprise,”

Steve swallowed hard and looked away. The flare of anger tried to brush through his ribcage again. Instead it felt weak, too drowned out by the heavy feeling behind his eyes.

“Does he love her?”

Robin chewed the inside of her cheek as she considered Steve’s question.

“He’s following her to another state,” she said after a moment. “That must mean something,”

Steve nodded.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Guess it does,”

*

"Come on, it'll be fun, it's only for two nights and it'll take your mind off everything,"

Robin was trying to convince Steve to join the other older members of the party for a weekend in some cabins in a national park in Tennessee.

Argyle's family owned them and, as a Thank You for welcoming him into their little group, had promised them free use of them whenever they wanted. Nancy would be going overseas to study for six months after New Years, so it was a kind of send off for her.

It was well into December now though, and Steve didn't feel like freezing his balls off alone in a cabin. He hadn't seen Eddie's van around for a little while, but there had been a small ad in the classifieds from Sara's family wishing her luck with her new life.

That was really all Steve needed to tell him that they were gone. Eddie was gone. A few days of peace and quiet wouldn't be the worst thing to clear his head. Well. That, and Argyle's guaranteed van full of weed.

As if to read his mind, Robin spoke up again.

"They're got these huge wood fires in the cabins, and me and you will have a whole one to ourselves," she said. "And no kids! We can have some drinks and just relax. Please, Steve?"

Steve eyed her carefully.

"I don't know, Rob," said Steve, sighing. "Argyle will have tons of room in his van for you, and he'll bunk with you if you don't want to be alone,"

"But! But!" Her eyes were wide.

Steve smirked.

"Tell me the truth and I'll say yes," he said, teasing.

"What?" she tried hard to look confused, bless her.

"Tell me that this has nothing to do with wanting to comfort Nancy," dared Steve, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Robin balked.

"Thats...! That's not...!" she stammered.

Nancy and Jon's break up had been kept quiet. None of the kids knew yet. They agreed that another stint of long distance would be too much for them, so they parted ways. It was clean, easy. It made Steve sad in his own way.

Robin and Vickie's breakup was less easy. She decided that Steve and Robin's friendship was something she couldn't be comfortable with. Robin had no choice but to understand, and Vickie had no choice but to walk away when Robin chose Steve over her.

Steve laughed.

"It's okay, Rob," said Steve. "I just don't get why you need me there for it,"

Robin finally gave up the act.

"So you can be my getaway driver if it doesn't go well," she said like it was obvious.

Steve laughed again.

"Alright fine," said Steve. "But...even if it goes well, she's still leaving,"

"I know," sighed Robin. "I just... I just feel like I have to try, you know? I don't want to be too late," Steve wished he could be so optimistic. Even a day apart would kill him, nevermind six months.

"Is that crazy?" asked Robin. "To want to do this and then wait for her?"

"No," mused Steve. "Just don't hop on a plane and follow her. That would be crazy,"

Robin laughed. "Well if Eddie is following Sara-"

Her eyes went wide. Robin clamped a hand over her mouth as Steve's chest constricted.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

Steve held his hand up.

"It's fine," he lied. "When's the trip again? Gotta get gas, and food, you know?"

"Steve I-"

"When, Rob?"

Steve's stomach was lurching violently, caught off guard by the mention of his name. And hers. He rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead.

"Um, this weekend," said Robin quietly. "We'll need to leave Friday morning,"

"Ok," nodded Steve. "I'll be there,"

The drive was better than Steve expected. Robin was a good passenger. She could read a map and always had the snacks ready to hand him. Steve had never been to this part of Tennessee before, so he was happy when Robin directed him onto the final dirt trail.

Robin spotted it before he did, parked right between two of the three cabins.

"Oh," she gasped. "Steve, I...I didn't know, I swear, you have to believe me,"

"What?" mumbled Steve, looking at her before following her gaze.

Steve took a second before he realised what he was looking at.

"I didn't know," Robin repeated quietly.

Steve gripped the steering wheel hard. There was no mistaking it. Right there, loud and proud.

Eddie's van.

Steve slid out of the driver’s seat carefully. Argyle came towards them with wide arms and a wider smile.

“Welcome, Brochaco and Brochacette!” he said brightly. “Who wants to learn all about the wonders of the safe keeping of your woodland abode?”

Robin stepped forward and Argyle directed her to the middle cabin. Steve was glad, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to focus. His eyes were already darting around, trying to spot Eddie. Hoping he didn’t see Sara instead. Nancy ran towards him.

“Steve!” She yelled happily.

“I’m glad you came,” she said, hugging him.

Steve almost didn’t hear her. Over her shoulder he saw him. Sitting on a low camping chair around a small firepit, chatting quietly with Jonathan, was Eddie.

“Come say hi!” She pulled him by the arm towards the others.

Steve rapidly counted the chairs around the fire. Six. If anyone had brought a…plus one…there’d be seven. Or maybe they hadn’t expected Steve to join and the empty chair next to Eddie did have an owner?

“Hey man,” said Jonathan. “Sit, fire’s great,”

Steve considered the chairs again. Eddie hadn’t even looked up to great him, instead keeping his gaze on the fire. Nancy wandered towards the cooler to unearth a bottle of white wine, while Jonathan left in search of a lighter.

“She’s not here, just sit down,” said Eddie cooly.

Steve looked at Eddie with wide eyes. He still wasn’t looking up, but his jaw was set and his hand gripped the neck of his beer bottle tightly. Steve sat down in the chair next to Eddie feeling like a scolded pupil.

“How, uh,” started Steve. “How come?”

Eddie puffed a sarcastic laugh into his bottle as he raised it for a swig.

“You don’t care,” he said.

Steve couldn’t defend himself. Eddie was right, he didn’t care. Robin and Argyle returned, all knowledge of safely lighting the indoor stove passed on.

“Glad you’re here, my guy,” said Argyle, sitting down and leaning over to fist bump Steve. “Figured you might like a chance to be with the whole gang again, now that the Ed Man swung back for a visit,”

“Yeah, this is great,” said Steve, only mildly grinding his teeth.

Steve knew the chill down his spine had nothing to do with the chill of the late afternoon. He was trembling in Eddie’s presence, with half a mind to just jump in his car and peel out of there. Robin would understand, he was sure of it.

Truly, Steve didn’t know if he was happy or sad to see him. His stomach churned everytime Eddie spoke in conversation, as everyone’s voice got louder as the day grew darker and the beers flowed faster. At the same time, he could barely turn his head to look at him.

It was like he didn’t feel like he had permission to look at him. He belonged to someone else and Steve had made himself clear; he wanted nothing to do with it. The night was cool around them when groups broke off.

Nancy and Robin where huddled together, having pulled their chairs close and covered themselves with a blanket. Jon and Argyle where leaning back and looking at the stars, softly speaking through private smiles. Eddie and Steve were quiet.

Steve had picked the label entirely off his bottle and rubbed the remaining glue until it was smooth. Once or twice he thought he heard Eddie inhale in a way that would signal the start of a sentence, but nothing ever came. Eventually, Steve got up and walked away

He didn’t go far, just around the back of the cabins. It was lit nicely by the moon and he could see into the woodland around them. It was peaceful, and he felt his chest loosen slightly now that he was further away from Eddie.

Steve took a cigarette out of his pocket and fumbled for a lighter before realising he didn’t have one. Sighing, he leaned down on the fence and watched the darkness between the trees. He knew it should scare him.

After everything they’ve been through, a still and perfect blackness should make his skin twitch, but he just felt a sort of comfort in it. Steve watched a small mouse scurry between some fallen leaves, and wondered if it had somewhere warm nearby to sleep.

A crack of a twig behind him made Steve jump. He turned quickly to see Eddie rounding the corner of the cabin.

“Sorry,” he said flatly. “I’ll find somewhere else,”

“Wait,” said Steve. “You stay, I need to find a lighter anyway,” He waved his unlit cigarette.

Eddie rolled his eyes and approached Steve, lighting his own smoke before handing the lighter to him.

“Thanks,” said Steve, lifting it to his lips. He felt like his chest was about to wring itself inside out with how hard it was squeezing.

Eddie leaned on the fence next to Steve.

“What are you doing here?” asked Eddie after a while.

“Oh, uh?” said Steve. “Just wanted some time alone I guess?”

“Not here,” said Eddie, clicking his tongue. “Here, like, the cabins. You haven’t come anywhere for months,”

Steve swallowed. He didn’t want to say ‘I didn’t think you’d be here’. That would just be rude.

“Robin…” he said. “She asked me to come,”

Eddie hummed.

“How about you?” asked Steve. “I thought you were in Michigan,”

Eddie smoked quietly.

“I was,” he agreed.

“When are you... going back?” asked Steve in spite of himself. He should have been overjoyed to finally have some one on one time with Eddie after pining for it for so long, but he couldn’t let himself enjoy it, knowing it wouldn’t last.

Eddie didn’t answer. Steve took a nervous drag of him smoke and tried something different.

“Will Wayne go see you up there, do you think?” he asked. Eddie rolled his head around on his shoulder.

“No Steve,” he said almost matter-of-factly. “I don’t think he will,”

“Oh,” said Steve. “How, uh, how come?”

Eddie took a deep breath.

“No use going up there if…” Eddie hesitated. “If I’m not there,”

Steve’s brow furrowed.

“What?” He asked. “Why wouldn’t you be there?”

Eddie chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Changed my mind, I guess,” he said with a soft shrug.

Steve was confused.

“I don’t…” he said. “I don’t understand?”

“Me neither,” said Eddie, softening slightly. “Haven’t even told anyone else yet. I drove us up there and I just…” Eddie cleared his throat. “Drove right on back,”

Steve could feel his eyebrows touch at this point.

“But… you were so excited,” said Steve. “It was your fresh start. What…what happened? What do mean you drove back?” asked Steve.

Eddie breathed out heavily.

“It didn’t feel right,” he said. “I think I realised it right after we hit the highway. I was too caught up in it to see that it just wasn’t…right,”

Steve was quiet.

“I got lost in the idea that, I don’t know,” Eddie waved his hand around. “Someone wanted me, and I just kind of went with the flow. Didn’t matter where it was taking me,”

“But, you wanted to leave, right?” asked Steve.

Eddie shrugged again.

“Thought I did,” said Eddie. “But then all I could think about was Wayne being alone and I…wanted to be back in the trailer with him. I wanted Hawkins,”

“So…You’re doing long distance, then?” asked Steve.

Eddie hummed again, pulling a final drag from his smoke.

“Like I said,” said Eddie quietly. “I was too caught up in feeling wanted,”

“Oh…” said Steve. He wanted to comfort Eddie but wasn’t sure how. He didn’t want Eddie to be unhappy and it did sound like he’d had to make a tough decision, with tougher consequences.

“So you’re back in Hawkins again for good?” asked Steve. He didn’t know if he could handle seeing him everywhere again.

“Yeah,” snorted Eddie. “Back again,”

Steve held the burnt filter of his own smoke in his hand.

“Back in a town I have some fucking stupid attachment to,” continued Eddie. “Half the folks still think I’m a killer but hey, here I am,” Eddie let out a tight laugh. “Who wants me now?” asked Eddie into the darkness, offering the rhetorical question to the night.

Steve knew it wasn’t a question that needed an answer. Really, he did. But when Eddie dropped his hand back onto the fence, it was barely an inch away from his. Steve could practically feel Eddie’s body heat coming from it. His breathing got tight.

Steve stared at their hands, so close. Eddie’s words rang in his ears. I want you, he thought. I want you! Steve slowly shifted his hand to the side of his little fingers brushed Eddie’s. Eddie looked down when he felt it. Steve held his breath.

Steve lifted his little finger to rub to softly against Eddie’s.

“Oh…” Eddie whispered.

“Yeah…” Steve whispered back.

Argyle’s voice cut through the night.

“Steve? Eddie? Where are you? Did a bear get you guys? Do they have bears in this state?”

“Shit” muttered Eddie, pulling his hand away like he’d been burnt. He dropped his spent cigarette to the ground and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I…fuck,” he said under his breath.

He didn’t look at Steve as he walked quickly back to the main clearing.

Steve bent forward slightly and rubbed his hands over his face. He felt like such an idiot. What the hell did he expect would happen? What the fuck was he thinking?

Steve stayed behind the cabins a while longer until Argyle’s voice called to him again. He dried his face as best he could, hoping the darkness would hide what he couldn’t. He came back to the fire and assured Argyle he really didn’t have to fight any bears

Steve smiled at how relieved he and Jonathan seemed. Eddie was staring dead into the fire, the fingertips of one hand drumming over his mouth. Steve could barely look at him. He felt so stupid. Steve leaned down and kissed the top of Robin’s head.

“I’m heading to bed,” he told her quietly.

“Huh?” she asked, barely turning away from Nancy. “Oh, yeah, I’ll be in soon too,”

“Sure you will,” Steve teased with a wink.

He announced his departure to the others and got raised bottles from Jon and Argyle.

Eddie didn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him too. He retreated to his cabin, immediately crossing his arms against the cold when he entered. He stood in front of the large stove fire for a second and debated calling Robin in to light it for him.

After a few minutes of thought Steve decided to just brave the cold. He had a hoodie and long sweats he could wear in bed. He’d be fine, and there were enough blankets on the bed to heat him up quickly. Steve slipped into bed and huddled around himself.

Part of him wished he was in more of a mood to appreciate the beautiful bedroom he was in. Lots of plaid and carved furniture, exactly the type of place his parents would insist was dirty and filled with bugs. Steve knew he’d love it though, if he had the chance to.

It wasn’t so a much a decision of if he would drive home early by himself tomorrow, more so when. Robin clearly didn’t need a getaway driver and after that stunt he pulled with Eddie, Steve wasn’t sure how welcome he’d feel come sunrise.

Steve didn’t even know if Eddie would tell anyone. It’s not like the group would care that they were both men, but admitting a crush, or more than a crush, however subtly right after learning about a breakup? Robin was sweet enough to pull it off. Steve, maybe not.

At the very least, it felt like some sort of ending. Eddie’s reaction had been a definite Full Stop to any idea Steve might have had about his feelings being returned. He wasn’t sure he ever even thought they would be. He just couldn’t hold it back any longer.

Steve tried to convince himself that this was a good thing. That now he had to move on. He had no choice, especially if Eddie was back in Hawkins. He couldn’t avoid him forever, their paths would have to cross eventually. Steve wished they wouldn’t.

Steve buried his face in his pillow and pulled the blankets up over his head, closing his eyes. He’d have plenty of time to dissect everything all over again in his own head in the morning. If he was making the drive back again so soon, he needed some sleep.

Steve had just managed to coax himself into something close to sleep when he heard the front door of the cabin creak open. So Robin did come back, he thought. Maybe she’d be driving back with him after all. He followed her footsteps across the living area.

The sounds of shoes being kicked off and the stove being lit were welcome to his ears. The stairs squeaked, and the floor outside his room, before he heard his door open and feet shuffling across the floor. He pretended to be asleep as the bed behind him dipped.

Steve loved her, he did, but he couldn’t listen to her go on and on about Nancy right now, whether good or bad. They’d talk in the car tomorrow. The blankets rustled and pillows were shifted, before he heard a deep breath being taken.

“Steve?”

Steve’s eyes shot open. His own breath stalled in his chest, because it only now that he realised. That wasn’t Robin.

“Are you awake?” Eddie asked softly.

Steve barely allowed himself to breathe as he turned over in the bed. The room was dark, barely lit by the moon outside, but the outline of Eddie’s features was still unmistakable.

“Hey,” Steve said quietly, afraid if he spoke too loudly he might wake himself from whatever dream he was in.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered back. His expression was almost one of confusion or gentle uncertainty.

“It’s cold in here,” said Eddie when Steve didn't answer. “Lit the stove for you,”

“Thanks,” replied Steve dumbly.

Eddie hummed. His eyes landed on Steve’s hand, resting palm up on the bottom edge of the pillow.

Eddie slowly moved his own hand so his fingertips rested lightly in Steve’s palm.

“Oh,” Steve breathed. His heart thumped so hard he was sure Eddie must be able to hear it.

“Yeah…” said Eddie, just as softly.

“What-” Steve began, before Eddie cut him off.

“Can we wait?” he asked.

“Wait?” asked Steve. “What do you mean?”

Eddie sighed.

“Can we wait until tomorrow to talk about it?” he said. “Can tonight just be…this?”

He gently ran his fingertips over Steve’s palm again

Steve nodded, giving a little ‘uh huh’ sound. Eddie gave him a sweet smile in return, still looking at their hands. They stayed like that for a while, Steve watching Eddie like he thought he was going to disappear while Eddie tapped his fingers soundlessly.

“You scare me, Steve,” said Eddie. Steve almost didn’t hear him, too caught up in watching how the movement of the moon highlighted the different lines of his face to hear the whisper.

“I do?” asked Steve. “Is that…good?”

Eddie shrugged.

“I think so. Stuff like this is supposed to scare you, I think,” said Eddie. “It’s supposed to feel….” Eddie took a breath and Steve watched his eyes move around as he searched for the words.

Steve thought he might wait forever for him to find them.

“It’s supposed to feel like a leap, right?” asked Eddie. “Like you need to trust your gut. It’s not supposed to be easy right away. You have to…want to earn it, I guess”

“And that’s how you feel?” Steve asked him, full of hope. “About me?”

Eddie took a deep breath.

“Yeah,” said Eddie simply. “When you…Outside, earlier, it was like…I don’t know, like an electric shock. But a good one. One I’d never felt before,”

Steve swallowed hard when Eddie took a pause.

“I didn’t know what was wrong with…Sara, that whole thing,” continued Eddie. “Why I wasn’t able to go be with her. But then, I felt that shock from you and I knew. Right away, it was like I just knew what I was missing,”

Steve took a shaky breath.

“I’m scared too,” Steve admitted. “Mostly that I’m dreaming, but, yeah, I’m….me too,”

Eddie laughed quietly at him, before sliding his fingers up to lace loosely with Steve’s.

“You’re not dreaming,” he whispered, squeezing his hand ever so gently.

“So you’ll still be here in the morning?” asked Steve. “When I wake up?”

He felt small suddenly, the vulnerability creeping up his spine again.

“Pinky swear,” said Eddie, shifting his hand again to hook their little fingers together.

Steve smiled.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” said Eddie again in a whisper. “Get some sleep,”

“Okay,” Steve whispered back.

Eddie shuffled an inch closer until their knees knocked together, and Steve felt his breath on their still joined hands.

Eddie smiled at Steve once more before closing his eyes and settling into the pillow. Steve settled too, the warmth of the stove fire finally reaching the room and leeching into the blankets around them. Eddie’s breathing evened out quickly, his lips slightly parted.

Steve hardly dared close his own eyes, afraid that if he blinked too hard Eddie would be gone. But the feeling of their lingering promise, their fingers still curled around each other, kept him grounded. Steve let sleep take him slowly.

The last thought before Steve drifted off was of everything he wanted to say to Eddie in the morning, all the promises he wanted to make. It felt like a beginning now, instead of an ending. Steve fell asleep feeling, in the very best way, absolutely terrified.

[plistommy]

[mcdynamite]

When everything settles down after Vecnapocalypse, Steve gets a call from the athletic director at Hawkins High School, and a day later, he accepts a part-time position as the assistant coach of the Hawkins High varsity basketball team.

Lucas is obviously stoked, and the other kids concede (after a few minutes of bemoaning Steve's return to the Dark Side) that it's a perfect job for him. Robin screeches with delight, and Nancy tells him she's proud of him, and Jonathan thumps him on the back with a quiet, "Congrats, man," and Eddie?

Well, Eddie just rolls his eyes and makes a joke about the Return of the King that goes right over Steve's head (but has the kids and, wouldn't ya know it, Nancy, grinning) and doesn't say much else.

It's probably stupid, but Eddie has actually (horrifyingly) grown to like hanging out with Steve. Sure, he knows next to nothing about D&D or Lord of the Rings or metal music, but that doesn't seem to matter all that much. He still listens to Eddie rant about all of those aforementioned interests and does his best to understand, even if he doesn't particularly care about the content of Eddie's latest campaign. He lets Eddie play Dio and Metallica and Black Sabbath for him, and even though Eddie can tell he's not really into most of their music, at the end of his "Musication" he gives Eddie a list of the songs he actually liked, so they have some stuff to listen to when they hang out that won't make one of them want to puncture their own eardrums.

He even looks genuinely apologetic (and, dare Eddie say, disappointed?) when he tells Eddie that it's not that he doesn't want to read Lord of the Rings. It's just that he can't, because reading is really fucking hard when the letters won't stop jumping all over the damn place.

The point is: Eddie likes Steve. He likes Steve's sarcastic quips and his attentiveness, and his hilarious but well-meaning and frighteningly successful mothering of the teenagers they apparently co-parent. Eddie likes Steve, and he likes being his friend, and he's afraid that this stupid Assistant Coach job will end up dragging Steve headfirst back into his King Steve days, and Steve will forget all about being friends with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

It's so, so stupid, because while Eddie likes Steve, he also knows Steve, and he knows that Steve isn't the guy who used to hang around the Tommy Hagans of the world anymore. But the fear is there, and it's still there by the time the school year starts and Steve starts getting busy "prepping" for his new job, which... what? The basketball season doesn't start until January, so what the hell kind of prep would Steve be starting in August?

Eddie wonders, but he doesn't ask. He just anxiously waits to see if Steve will eventually decide to ditch him, and he continues to be quietly delighted when Steve always, always makes time for the two of them to hang out.

The thought of Steve going back into jock-mode still makes him kinda sick, but he'll never tell Steve that. Steve is way too excited for the start of the basketball season, and Eddie is gonna support him the same way Steve supports Eddie at his Corroded Coffin concerts: with begrudging interest and genuine pride, so help him God.

It goes on like this until one day, Eddie's begrudging interest suddenly becomes a little more genuine, when he accidentally stumbles upon what Steve meant for the last three months whenever he said he was "prepping for the season." 

He's got plans to hang out with Steve that afternoon, pulling up in his van fifteen minutes late because time management has never been one of his strong suits. Only, when he gets to Casa Harrington, he notices something strange. The garage is open.

The thing is, Steve always parks the Beemer in the driveway. He never uses the garage. Actually, Eddie didn't even realize Steve had a garage at all, until now, but he hears some clanging coming from inside and goes to investigate. He walks past the Beemer (parked in the driveway where it always is) and peers inside, expecting to maybe find Steve... repairing something? Reorganizing? Honestly, he has no clue what he thinks he'll find in there.

What he definitely doesn't expect to find is Steve Harrington in the middle of what appears to be a pretty fucking intense workout – hair and tank top damp with sweat, wearing frankly indecently short shorts, and breathing steadily as he does fucking pull-ups on the bar in his garage, which has apparently been converted into a whole goddamn home gym.

Eddie stops in his tracks and stares, affording himself a moment or two to have a teeny, tiny (enormous) crisis over it.

Steve hasn't noticed him yet, and Eddie can't tear his stupid eyes away from the way Steve's arms tremble from the exertion as he pulls himself up, face pinched into a concentrated frown. Eddie can see him gritting his teeth, can see the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining a little bit. Even worse, every time Steve lowers himself down, his stupid tank top rides up just enough to expose the (not at all soft, apparently) plains of his stomach, glistening with sweat, and God, Eddie wants to lick Steve fucking Harrington's abs like a-

Oh, no.

Oh, fuck no.

Oh, Jesus H. Christ, fucking shit, NO.

Listen... It's not like Eddie hasn't already known for years that he's gay. He's been fully aware of that since middle school. It's the reason his dad kicked him out and sent him to live with Wayne, for fuck's sake. It's just that Eddie has put a lot of effort into pretending his thoughts about Steve Harrington were totally, completely, 100% platonic up until this point, and now he can feel all of that hard work going down the metaphorical drain.

He stands there, stock still with his jaw hinged open, and stares while his brain melts out of his ears and his thoughts begin to race. God, those fucking arms. Eddie's not weak, but he's definitely weaker than Steve, which means Steve could definitely pin Eddie down if he wanted to. In a bed. Against the wall. On the hood of a car. Fuck, on the goddamn floor – Eddie's not picky! All he knows is that he wants Steve to leave the workout for later so Eddie can lick the sweat off of him, which... gross. But also hot. But also-

"Eddie?"

Oh, fuck. How does one talk to the sun?

Steve has noticed him standing there, obviously, which sort of makes Eddie wonder how long he's been staring. Time stopped in Eddie's world the moment a sweaty Steve Harrington entered his field of vision, so he truly has no idea how bad his staring got.

Christ, this is going to be so bad.

So, so bad.

"Eds?" Steve says, his face pinching into a frown. "You okay?"

Oh my god, you moron, say something! Eddie's brain screams at him.

"What?" Smooth. "Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Just, y'know, like, lost in thought, or whatever. Plotting my next demonic attempt at world domination. The usual."

Steve looks at him like he's grown a second head, which... is fair. But Eddie's fumbling attempt at speech is at least embarrassing enough to take precedence over the cacophonous sound of whatever Ode to Abs his mind was attempting to compose, and Eddie feels like he can think a little more clearly.

"Ah, fuck," Eddie mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighs and looks at Steve apologetically. "I'm sorry, dude. I swear I'm fine. It's just been a weird day."

Steve cocks his head to the side like a particularly inquisitive puppy, and oh God, it's adorable. Eddie loathes how adorable it is. "Good weird?" Steve asks. "Or bad weird?"

Eddie ponders his answer for a moment, then replies with, "Weird weird."

That's enough to startle a laugh out of Steve, who shakes his head and wraps a towel around his neck. "Fair enough, man. Sorry about all of this, by the way." He gestures vaguely towards the home gym in his garage and shrugs sheepishly. "I was gonna be done before you got here but I sorta... lost track of time, I guess." He's got an unreadable look on his stupidly beautiful face, and Eddie doesn't like that at all. He doesn't like that one bit.

But he decides not to overthink it and brushes Steve's apology off with a wave of his hand. "It's whatever, dude. Might wanna shower, though." The ‘otherwise I might take it upon my gay little self to lick you clean’ is left blessedly unsaid.

Steve laughs again, and just like that, things start to feel a bit less earth-shattering. They banter for a bit longer, then Steve really does go to take a quick shower, and they spend the rest of the night lying on the floor of Steve's living room, listening to the metal mix tape they made together and bitching about their brood of teenagers.

Weirdly, though, after that day, Steve seems to be working out a lot more frequently. As in almost every single time he and Eddie have plans. Day after day, Eddie is treated to the sight of Steve Harrington looking like a goddamn Greek god, and day after day, Steve catches his eye and smiles before abandoning his equipment and acting like Eddie's world hasn't been completely turned on its head.

It's starting to drive him kind of insane, honestly, and his pining has gotten so bad that even Gareth and Jeff know.

"He's just so pretty!" Eddie whines for what feels like the thousandth time.

His band mates simply exchange a long-suffering look and let him ramble.

It all comes to a head in November, just before Thanksgiving, when Eddie shows up and once again finds Steve finishing a workout. Just like always, Steve shoots him a good-natured grin and greets him before heading inside for a quick shower, and just like always, Eddie waits downstairs.

NOT like always, however, this time Steve comes jogging down the stairs with wet hair, wearing a pair of joggers and... absolutely nothing else.

It's been a long time since Eddie last saw Steve without a shirt on (since the day at Lover's Lake when they found watergate, to be precise), and suddenly Eddie is remembering why he'd immediately pulled out a cigarette to calm down that day. Only this time it's even worse, because Steve has really been putting effort into these workouts, and it shows.

His chest is toned and covered in coarse hair that Eddie kind of wants to tug on, just to see what sort of sounds Steve would make if he did. He's got the makings of an honest-to-God six pack just barely visible on his abdomen, partially obscured by scars Eddie recognizes from looking at his own in the mirror. Steve's are slightly smaller and not as deep, but they clearly came from the same sets of tiny jaws, and Eddie finds them weirdly comforting, these matching scars that they share. Steve's look pale in contrast against his skin, and God, Eddie just wants to kiss them. He wants to worship them and every other inch of the man who bears them.

The man who definitely just said something Eddie didn't hear because he was too busy trying not to pass out from mere proximity to something so beautiful.

"Sorry, what?" Eddie asks, shaking his head violently in an attempt to dispel his traitorous thoughts.

Steve smirks, but Eddie can see the soft fondness in his eyes when he cocks his head to the side and repeats the words Eddie missed the first time. "I asked if you see something you like, Munson," Steve teases, one hand carding wet hair out of his face, and Eddie just blinks at him.

Play it off, play it off, play it off, his brain supplies helpfully. He can totally play this off. Dudes stare at their friends’ chests all the time, right?

"What?" he practically squeaks. "I- well... no, wait, um... ah, fuck."

So much for plausible deniability.

He's just beginning to feel vaguely panicky when Steve seems to catch on, and he's right in front of Eddie in an instant, concerned, hazel eyes gazing down at Eddie's grimacing face.

"Hey," Steve says, reaching out like he wants to touch Eddie but thinks better of it. "It's okay, man. You're okay. I'm just messing with you."

The impact of his words is instant, and Eddie can feel his face heating up. Of course Steve was joking. God, Eddie is such an idiot.

"Right," Eddie says, voice strained. He rubs his face with both hands, shaking his head lightly. "Duh. Obviously you were teasing." His voice sounds strange even to his own ears, and he's got a weird feeling of anticipation in his stomach that tells him that he's already shown too many of his cards.

"I mean, yeah..." Steve says, seeming nervous for the first time since Eddie got here. His hands flit from the back of his neck to his hair to his waist, like he doesn't know what to do with them. "Teasing is, like, flirting 101, so..."

Eddie freezes.

"Oh my God, wait..." he says slowly, finally daring to meet Steve's confused eyes. "Flirting?"

Steve looks utterly perplexed now, and he does that thing where he cocks his head to the side in confusion. 

It's still adorable. Fuck, why is it so adorable? 

"Um... yes?" He studies Eddie, seems to register the shock on his face, and then matches it with shock of his own. "Wait, you didn't know? I thought you knew!"

"I most certainly did not!" Eddie counters, feeling a bit like he's having an out-of-body experience.

"Oh my God," Steve says. "Oh my God, Eddie, I've been flirting with you for, like, months!"

"Months?!" Eddie's voice has officially reached the stratosphere.

"Yes!" Steve yelps. He looks torn between laughing and crying, though Eddie thinks it'll be mildly hilarious no matter what choice he makes. "Jesus, dude, I winked at you while I was doing pull-ups last week! What did you think that was?"

"A hallucination!" Eddie says immediately. "You're straight, Harrington!"

At that, Steve snorts, then shakes his head.

Eddie's pretty sure his brain is melting by now.

"Yeah, um, no," Steve says firmly. "I'm definitely not straight."

"You... I... What? Since when?"

"Well..." Steve begins, briefly glancing away. "Since forever, technically. Probably. But officially, since that time I made out with Tommy H. after we got wasted at a party sophomore year. And if that wasn't enough proof, I think the amount of time I’ve spent staring at your ass lately definitely is."

Eddie stares at him. "Am I dead?" he asks dumbly. "Is this Heaven? Am I having a fucking stroke?"

Steve's laughter is bright when it rings through his living room, and Eddie is grateful when Steve carefully raises a hand to cup his cheek, because the soft touch is grounding in the best way. 

"Definitely not dead, Eds," Steve says. "And shit, I hope you're not having a stroke. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Eddie just blinks at him, because Steve has one hand on Eddie's cheek and the other on Eddie's arm, and he's definitely not holding up any fingers. "Zero, Harrington, what the fuck?" he says weakly.

Steve laughs – no, scratch that, he giggles. He fucking giggles. 

If Eddie isn't dead yet, he's about to be. 

"Good. See?" Steve says. "Not having a stroke."

"I don't think that's how strokes work, dude," Eddie says weakly.

"No?" Steve asks, though he's still smiling, and he looks wholly unbothered by Eddie's doubting of his medical prowess.

Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide as Steve huffs out a laugh and slips an arm around his waist to pull him closer. They're practically chest to chest now, and Eddie is suddenly reminded of how very shirtless Steve currently is. He's mildly horrified by the way his hands tremble slightly when he rests them flat against the center of Steve's chest, but it's not like anyone can blame him! He's only ever kissed a couple of people before, and now he's somehow found himself in the arms of a half naked Steve Harrington. So, yeah, he's feeling a little jittery. Sue him.

If Steve notices the jitters, though, he doesn't mention it. Instead, he gives Eddie a soft, disarming smile that makes Eddie feel pathetically weak at the knees. "So..." Steve says, cheeks turning a pretty pink color. "Hi."

A slightly manic bark of laughter bursts from Eddie's lungs, but it only seems to make Steve smile wider. "Yeah, hi, Stevie," Eddie breathes. 

And then he nearly stops breathing completely when Steve's thumb drags gently across his cheek. It's such a sweet gesture that Eddie thinks he might melt right into the floorboards.

"So..." Steve murmurs again, gaze not leaving Eddie's. "It has recently been brought to my attention that you didn't realize I was flirting with you this whole time."

Eddie doesn't need a mirror to know that his face flushes bright red at Steve's words.

"But I have been," Steve continues. He bites his lip, almost like he's nervous, which is ridiculous because what the fuck is there about Eddie that could be making Steve Harrington nervous right now? "Like, I've been doing it constantly, because you're funny, and sweet, and sort of adorable, but also kinda hot? Y'know, because you have the tattoos and stuff, and you're all dramatic all the time, and it's hot, but then sometimes you do that thing where you hide your face behind your hair, and it's so fucking cute, Eddie, I mean..."

Steve trails off, cheeks growing even pinker after seemingly realizing that he's been rambling, and Eddie feels like he's going insane.

"Anyway," Steve says, clearing his throat. "I like you, Eddie. Like, a lot. And I've sort of been dying to kiss you for, like, months, so-"

Eddie never lets Steve finish his sentence, because the moment the word kiss leaves his mouth, Eddie is leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a soft, fleeting kiss that's over far too fast.

So fast, in fact, that it takes a moment for reality to catch up to Eddie afterwards. He's already pulling away by the time it hits him: he just kissed Steve Harrington.

He, Eddie fucking Munson, just kissed Steve fucking Harrington.

"Holy shit," Eddie mutters, gaze flitting back and forth between Steve's wide eyes. "Holy shit."

There's a brief pause, and then Steve starts to laugh.

It starts as a soft chuckle and slowly transforms into bright, elated laughter that echoes off the walls and bathes the whole room in sunlight, never mind the rainy day outside. It's light and happy and beautiful, and Eddie unfreezes after a moment to add his own laughter to the mix. He drops his head onto Steve's shoulder, a shiver running down his spine when Steve's arms come around him automatically, like they were made to fit together like this.

Eddie wonders if maybe they were.

When their laughter finally dies down, Steve carefully pulls back just enough to meet Eddie's eyes again, and Eddie smiles shyly up at him.

"Sorry," Eddie says without a hint of guilt in his voice. "You said the word kiss and I panicked."

Steve just shakes his head and grins. "See? Like I said - adorable." One of his hands raises to cradle Eddie's cheek again, and Eddie doesn't hesitate before leaning into the touch. "But if it's okay with you," Steve says softly, “I'd really like to give you a proper kiss, now."

And yep, it's official. Steve Harrington is going to be the death of him.

Eddie can't fucking wait.

He nods and lets his gaze flit down to Steve's lips for a fraction of a second before Steve is closing the distance between them, and oh... this is so much better than the quick, vaguely frantic press of lips they exchanged only a few moments ago. Eddie takes back every judgemental comment he's ever made about the girls who were obsessed with Steve Harrington in high school, because he gets it now.

Oh, God, he gets it.

Because Steve kisses him, soft and sure, like Eddie is the only thing that matters in all the world. It's gentle and sweet and perfect – not an ounce of hesitation in the way Steve slots their lips together. And then Steve just... stays there, like he's giving Eddie a moment to catch up, to process what's happening.

He's so goddamn patient – so fucking kind – and Christ, Eddie adores him for it.

Steve pulls back just enough to break the kiss, and Eddie doesn't whine. He doesn't. But it's okay, because Steve doesn't leave him hanging for long, threading his fingers through Eddie's curls and using them as leverage to tug him even closer into a kiss that turns Eddie's legs to jelly. Steve's tongue slides against Eddie's so beautifully, and his hands are so strong, and he smells like lemony soap and minty toothpaste (did Steve brush his teeth after showering? God, he's ridiculous. He’s perfect.) and Eddie can feel the muscles in Steve's chest shift whenever they move, and, and, and...

And yeah, this time when Steve pulls away, breath coming quicker and eyes shining with happiness, Eddie does whine. Or maybe it's a whimper. Maybe it's both. Christ, Eddie doesn't care. He'll keep making that noise forever if Steve keeps looking at him like this.

"Fuck," Eddie breathes. He knows he probably looks embarrassingly awestruck, but he can't find it in himself to care. "How are you so fucking hot, Steve? What the fuck?" His face is on fire, but Steve just laughs – nope, there's that giggle again – and kisses Eddie's forehead.

Eddie's pretty sure he's melting, but honestly? Worth it.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Steve teases, "but I've actually been working out a lot lately..."

Not even Eddie's lovesickness could protect Steve from the playful smack he gets for that.

"Did I notice?" Eddie huffs. "You're the worst, Harrington."

Steve just smiles and kisses him again.

[liminalsanctuary]

Steve gets a call from Robin and catches her up on the past couple of days. He and Eddie have a moment behind the woodshed. Wayne gives them a talk. A possible lead is developing to take Gabriel down. 

~~~~~

The next day, Steve made sure to be in the cabin a little after noon to wait for the call he was expecting from Robin. He wasn’t sure exactly when she’d get back to Hawkins, but he didn’t mind the wait. It gave him some time to think about the evening before, how he was going to deal with Robin’s cockiness when he told her she’d been right after all.

The night before replayed in his head like a heady dream. A little shiver ran up his spine when he remembered the way Eddie’s tongue felt ghosting over his bottom lip; the way their teeth clacked together when they both smiled into their kiss. He'd liked the way Eddie’s evening stubble had scratched against his own, and how he’d gripped Steve’s thigh like he thought he’d float away without the anchor of his palm. They’d both pulled back, nose-to-nose, just as they felt things start to get a little too heated. They’d sat like that for a minute, foreheads pressed together as they both caught their breath. When they finally pulled apart, Steve couldn’t keep himself from smiling. He was still grinning, head on Eddie’s chest and the other boy’s hand running through his hair, when he fell asleep.

It was one o’clock when the phone finally rang. Steve bounded over to the wall and picked it up at the second ring. Robin’s voice crackled over the line before he could even get out a greeting.

[mardyart]

sharing hobbies??? nicknames???? just kiss already ffs

[hairmetal666]

Steve knows he falls in love too easily. Nancy told him, Robin too.

But falling in love with Eddie Munson is hard.

They're supposed to be friends after Vecna. They're supposed to be friends, but Steve can't get past what Eddie did in the Upside Down; how he put himself in a position to nearly die, how Dustin got hurt. It's not fair. He knows it's not, but it doesn't make the anger go away.

Eddie's part of the group now, though, and Steve won't leave him out, no matter how angry. They're all at movie nights, at pool parties, at Hellfire, at Corroded Coffin gigs. It's just that Steve and Eddie don't speak. And Steve is okay with it. If it's what it takes to make sure that they're all hanging out together, not talking to Eddie is a small thing. He's pretty sure Eddie doesn't mind. At least, he seems as uninterested in hanging out with Steve as Steve is with him.

It doesn't need to be anything more than that, and it isn't, not until Steve goes upstairs to get more sunscreen during one of the pool parties, and walks back downstairs to find Munson waiting for him in his kitchen.

"You need something?" He asks, unable to fully hide the way he jolts with surprise.

Eddie twists the rings on his fingers, something Steve's noticed he does whenever he's nervous. "You have a problem with me, Harrington?

"No, of course not," he answers too fast.

"C'mon, man. You can barely stand to be in the same room with me."

"That's not true! We're in one together right now."

Eddie rolls his eyes so hard that it has to hurt. "Don't do that. Don't pretend like you don't know what I mean. You can't stand to be alone with me for more than thirty seconds."

Steve splutters, searching for a plausible reason.

"Is it cause--" Eddie swallows, hand going back to cup his neck. "Is it cause you heard me tell Robin that I'm gay? Back at the hospital. Is it because--" he cuts himself off.

Something in Steve's chest clenches hard, warmth swooping dangerously in his stomach. "No," Steve says, means it. "I didn't hear. I didn't-- it has nothing to do with that. It's--that's cool. Thanks for--yeah, that's cool."

Eddie's smile is a brittle little thing. "Then, what else?" Eddie pulls a chunk of hair over his mouth. "I can't think of any other reason you'd hate me so much."

"I don't." And Steve hopes it's coming off as genuine. "I promise."

He can't help remember the camaraderie, the understanding, that started to grow between them in the Upside Down. The "don't cha, big boy?" of it all. They could be friends. They should be.

They shouldn't get into it. Not right here, not right now when the kids' splashes and excited screams filter through the sliding door.

"You're a shit liar, Harrington."

"Ed--I'm not--"

"You know what? Don't bother. I'll just--" He jolts in the direction of the front door.

"Don't be stupid, Munson."

"God, I can't believe I didn't see it before. You just fucking loathe me."

"I do not. Grow up."

"Oh, yeah? Then what's your problem?"

"There isn't--"

"Stop lying!"

"You didn't fucking think!" He shouts. Loud enough that the noise outside cuts off. "You pulled that shit in the Upside Down and you almost died! Dustin got hurt!"

Eddie blinks his big brown eyes in stunned surprise.

"I told you, I said, 'dont try to be cute or be a hero or something.' And you know what you said? Do you?"

Eddie won't look at him now. "I had to make a choice, Steve."

"It was the wrong one!"

"I would do it all again. No matter what you say. I would do it to draw the bats away. To protect Dustin."

"But you didn't."

"There was no other way to stop them, Steve! They would've gotten through, into Hawkins."

"It doesn't matter."

"You weren't there! You can't tell me--"

"Yes, I can! I know."

"You don't! You think--"

"I almost lost you!" He screams. "You nearly died in my arms, Eddie. And for what?"

Falling in love with Eddie wasn't easy. It was blood and near death; it was weeks in a cold hospital room while Eddie existed in a drug-induced twilight state; it was agonizing convalescence and physical therapy and changing bandages; it was Eddie leading dnd sessions with bright eyes and contagious enthusiasm, herding the kids to the arcade and video store, theatrically serving snacks at movie night; it was festering, senseless anger at the near loss of something.

Eddie's lips tremble. "Steve, I--"

"It doesn't matter." He turns away to slide a hand down his face in an effort to wipe away the emotion. "You're fine and we're--it doesn't matter."

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "Steve, I'm sorry. I wanted--I thought it would help. I thought--"

And Steve has to admit, he does, the whole terrible contradiction of it all. "I know," he whispers back. "I would've--I know."

"I thought I was protecting Dustin. I thought I was buying you guys time with Vecna." Eddie's voice breaks. "I didn't--I--" He squeezes his eyes shut.

In the quiet of the kitchen, they gravitate to one another, foreheads resting together.

"I should have been there, Ed. I shouldn't have left you two alone. You almost died, and I--"

"Sweetheart, I'm right here. We're right here."

They don't kiss, but they're close enough that their mouths brush with each breath they take.

"Don't do that, again." Steve clenches his fists into Eddie's cutoff t-shirt. "Promise you won't ever--"

"I promise, Stevie. I promise. I'll be by your side until the very end, whatever it is."

[steddieas-shegoes]

fooling ourselves

for @steddiemicrofic prompt 'fool' (don't you worry folks, i plan on being a fool and doing the silly prompt too)

454 words | rated t | no cw | tags: mutual pining, idiots to lovers, first kiss

🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

Steve was fooling everyone.

At least, he hoped he was.

He might be failing.

Steve practically begged for time alone with Eddie. It was embarrassing.

It's just that in the group, Eddie was loud, put on the same show he always did at school, in the hospital when he was recovering and trying to keep smiles on everyone's faces. He fooled everyone except Steve.

When they were alone, Eddie was more reserved, thoughtful, touched him more.

Steve was touch starved, okay? Every time Eddie placed his hand on his knee or ran a hand through his hair, it was like an electric shock jolted his body to attention.

He wasn't looking further into it.

Except for when he did, which was nearly every night over the last two weeks, right after Eddie had told him that he started seeing someone in Indy.

In the moment, he congratulated him, asked a few polite questions that any friend would, and found a reason to go home.

He'd avoided being alone with Eddie ever since.

Actually, he'd avoided Eddie entirely until today.

The kids were having a movie night and attendance was mandatory.

The movie was scary, something he knew he couldn't watch, but showed up for anyway. Robin made an excuse for him to sit outside, said he'd been dealing with a migraine all day and the flashing on the screen wasn't helping.

He owed her.

The Henderson home had a small back porch, but it was the perfect place for him to sit and get some fresh air, clear his mind from the thought of Eddie sitting inside. He'd been with Frankie all day.

That got shut down, but probably wouldn't be for much longer, not if they got serious.

"You okay out here? Need a drink?" Eddie's voice shocked him from his thoughts.

"Huh? Oh. I'm fine."

"Robin wanted me to come check on you. Said you wanted to talk to me?" Eddie sat down next to him on the back step.

"She did?" He apparently had not fooled Robin.

Eddie nodded.

"Oh. I'm good."

"Really? So you wouldn't care if I said I'm not seeing Frankie anymore?"

Steve turned to see a shit-eating grin on Eddie's face.

"You aren't?"

"Nah. I think I liked the idea of having a boyfriend more than I liked him."

"Oh."

"I think I was really just trying to move on from someone else."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, kinda failed at fooling myself, though."

Eddie's hand settled on Steve's thigh.

"How's that?" Steve asked.

"This guy I like, he's kinda new to this. I finally realized I'd have to be the one to make a move."

"Yeah?"

Eddie's answer was a soft kiss to his lips and a whispered, "yeah."

[strawberryspence]

Robin "Tired of Pining" Buckley

Steddie Week / Day 1: Pining & Somebody To Love ( @steddie-week )