#steve harrington needs a hug

[starlight299]

The S1-S2 party: “Steve has always taken all this stuff so well.”

The kids (mostly Dustin): “He’s practically invincible.”

Nancy probably: “He’s too dumb to be affected by Trauma.” (The rest of the party hates that but Dustin’s the only one who argues)

Robin not even a week after star court: “Steve is traumatized and hurt, he just tries to hide it, and he’s not even that good at it you guys just don’t care enough to notice (Dustin is offended; he does care he’s just a kid and Steve is actually pretty good at hiding it.)

Eddie a week out of the hospital: “Steve, you're not very good at advocating for yourself." (Steve didn’t get his injuries attended to because he thought he could handle it and ‘the others needed him’)

Steve: “I'm supposed to be advocating for myself??"

The entire party (minus Dustin) after Robin and Eddie scream at them for over an hour about Steve’s condition (they’re a little nicer to the kids it’s not really their fault): “Oh shit, we fucked up.”

Steve after people start being nice to him all of a sudden: “There’s an imbalance in the universe, am I being Vecna’d? Did he not really die? Shit. What is happening?”

Eddie and Robin: *crying*

[springfaekohaku]

Warning Shot

It was only supposed to be a warning shot.

Steve Harrington found himself staring face first into the barrel of a gun, held by none other than Nancy Wheeler — his girlfriend.

Said girlfriend was shouting at him, while Jonathan Byers stood at her side with matching bandages on their hands, the boy looking just as shocked as Steve. His voice echoing around them and getting lost in Nancy’s booming voice, a side he never saw from the girl that he fell head over heels with. Steve could only hold his hands up in a surrendering gesture, he was officially freaking out.

It was chaos. Steve didn’t even know what to think, he arrived with the intent to figure out what was going on with the two of them, Tommy and Carols voices taunting him in his head that something was going on. But this? He was being screamed at, demanding he’d leave and get out of the Byers residence, while Christmas lights were flickering on the wall with an alphabet drawn into it; he felt like he was having a fever dream.

Until the walls started to tremble and shake, Nancy’s voice got desperate and in a panic at Steve’s insistence to know what the hell was going on, he just wouldn’t leave. Jonathan’s panic at the escalation and the added pressure of Steve being in the midst of their plan, making everything go astray. Nancy had to do something to get Steve to leave, she felt herself building in pressure and like a rubber band; she snapped.

Just as the roof was being sunken in and the lights bursting, a loud BANG! rung through the living room and it all went silent…

Steve felt like his ears burst and could only hear ringing as he stared at Nancy. It was like things were in slow motion and his brain didn’t catch up to what just happened until he felt a burning sharp pain in his right hand and turned his head to see a hole in the middle of his palm. That’s when it all set in and realised what the fuck just happened.

He hears both Nancy’s and Jonathan’s voices.

“It was only supposed to be a warning shot. I-It, I…I aimed above I swear. I didn’t mean to.”

“What did you just do?! You shot him! You actually shot him, whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck—”

Steve finally felt everything coming back and clear as the ringing subsided, the adrenaline wearing off and he truly feels the agony and pain in his hand. There is a hole in his hand. In the middle of his palm.

There is a fucking hole in his hand.

And Nancy Wheeler, his girlfriend was the cause of it. Pretty sure it was Ex-Girlfriend now.

He hears the two teenagers shouting in panic and stress, while Steve checked out, only feeling blood pooling out from his wound down his arms and off his elbow. So he releases his hands from the air and cradles his injured hand with his other one, it hurt but his mind was somewhere else and everything seemed to collapse on itself. In his mind and currently in the Byers living room. However, he had a rude awakening as he felt Jonathan call out his name like trying not to spook a wild animal that’s been injured. His name was soft and gentle on his lips. Steve could see the desperation and panic in his eyes, like they were running out of time.

And they were. They were given a moment of peace until hell broke loose again. Only this time, the roof does sink in on itself, with a monster phasing through it and Steve was right under it. He could only look up and see what appears to be a claw, almost puncturing through the roof like it was made out of flesh and stretched skin.

Jonathan didn’t waste a second, discarding the initial plan to coax Steve into safety, they ran out of time; so he lunges for Steve. Grabbing his uninjured arm, tugging him and both jumping over the bear trap and to the room with Nancy ahead, opening the door for both boys and her last, locking it and standing guard.

Steve was walked to the bed and Jonathan sat him down. He had to find something to bandage Steve’s wound, which felt fruitless because there was no medical supplies in this room. So he figured the next best thing is a thin layered shirt that he can tear up and use as a makeshift bandage. It seemed like luck was on his side because he found exactly that. It was a disposable shirt too, it wouldn’t be missed, so he got to work. He had to act fast, he could hear the monster finally break through and its heavy body hit the living room floor. He kneels down in front of Steve and sees the other boy holding his injured hand and trembling. He coaches Steve through it and tells him it’s going to be okay, that it’ll hurt but that he’s here. Maybe it was also to get himself together too. He’s not leaving. As scared as he is, Jonathan knew the monster smelt their blood and now Steve’s fresh flesh wound, he didn’t want it to get any worse than it already is.

They had a plan. It’s all gone to shit and haywire.

Now, they just need to figure out how to trap the bastard and keep it from the others. They can still do this, they need to do this.

Jonathan looks at his handy work and deems is satisfactory for now and turns towards Nancy, meeting her eyes, he sees her guarded, her eyes were stormy and face littered in a ripple of emotions. But it seems like she also has the same conclusion, get it together and focus on the plan; no matter if it’s skewed and ruined.

So, she meets Jonathan’s gaze. She doesn’t even have it in her to look at Steve. Her boyfriend. The boy she shot.

They can still execute in the next phase. They just need Steve to be hidden in a secure place, away from danger.

Away from Nancy and her gun. Which was unsaid but it was spoken in her mind.

Nancy nods, standing guard and Jonathan nods in return. Standing up to guide Steve to a wardrobe, taking everything out and placing him in. Jonathan didn’t feel any resistance, he can clearly tell Steve is still in shock and internally dissociating. He notices that far-away look and how pliant he was with being essentially manhandled into the wooden wardrobe. Sitting him down, Jonathan can only offer a few words of reassurance and telling the older boy they’ll be back for him when it’s over. He wasn’t able to wait for a response as Nancy signals Jonathan and Steve feels the sense of safety and warmth leave his space. A feeling he’d never thought associating with Jonathan, it was new but he couldn’t help but feel his lingering touches, gentle yet firm.

He doesn’t even notice the wardrobe doors close and all he knows next is darkness and being left alone with his thoughts. He can’t help but think back to his and Jonathan’s spat, how Steve taunted him and called him names, said awful things about his family and yet…the younger boy grabbed him and took his hand into safety and out of danger without a second thought. He can’t help but also think about how in their fight, or well, Steve’s beat-down, how Jonathan being on top of him sparked a feeling that felt dangerous and unknown, yet familiar. How he straddled his hips and felt his hands on him and like moments ago, instead of his touch hurting, he was gentle and kind. He felt butterflies in his stomach. It made Steve and his entire world go into turmoil and it seems like he’s come to two conclusions tonight:

Monsters are real.

He’s pretty sure he’s having a Queer awakening.

He didn’t have time to dwell more in the closet, haha, because the sound of gunshots, the sound of like a banshee screeching, Nancy’s voice and Jonathan’s grunts could be heard; Steve had to get out.

So he does.

Steve breaks out of his hiding spot and opens the door, he rushes to the scene of commotion and sees Jonathan pinned down by the monster, which looked to be made out of flesh, its mouth opens like a flower with petals that has razor sharp teeth inside — all wanting to bite into Jonathan’s face as the boy tries to fight against it. Nancy fired shots but it seems to not deterrent the monster, not even bothering it and she seemed frozen and unsure what to do next.

Enter Steve who spots the nailed bat, so he leaps over the bear trap again, grabbing the nail bat and as the adrenaline fills his entire being once again; he doesn’t even feel the pain as he grips the bat in a death grip. He gets close enough and shouts at the ugly bastard. He gains its attention and it screeches at him, now smelling the fresh blood from Steve’s hand and detached itself from Jonathan. It stood and towered over Steve but Steve didn’t feel anything but anger, rage, the instinct to protect and keep them safe.

He twirls the bat to get a better grip and positions himself into a stance to fully swing at the monster, using all his strength and power, he hoped playing baseball for a while payed off.

So he swung, the monster staggering and Steve was hitting blow after blow and that’s when Nancy and Jonathan recoup to see Steve backing the hideous creature into the bear trap. It was working.

Holy shit, it was working.

Steve knew it fell into the trap as it screeched in a guttural scream that he hasn’t heard before.

That’s when he hears Jonathan’s voice shouting at him to stand back and he sees the boy throw a lit lighter into the gasoline which Steve didn’t even notice until it was engulfing the floor and racing towards the trap. Eventually engulfing the creature and the three teens watch as the creature screamed, tried to break free of the trap and even tears off its leg to escape.

Nancy was caught off guard at the unexpected movement and backed away and tugged Jonathan back with her. Eyes trained on it as it advances towards them but then Steve, Steve being the reckless idiot he was, uses the last of his strength and takes only a few strides and twists his body, elbows up and shoulders squared; his feet planted and he swings.

The nails pierced the monsters head before the rest of the bat followed, connecting with the head ripping it clean off its shoulders. The screeching stopped at its decapitation and only the sound of fire burning its flesh remain and the flicker of the lights finally stop and the room stopped feeling like it was going through an earthquake. They stare at the monsters corpse and sees it disintegrating under the flames, taking the heat with it and only leaving scorch marks behind.

Everything was still.

It was over.

Or was it?

TBC…

Next chapter —>

[kennahjune]

Teen Dad AU

Part 2!!

Starting the tag list with: @mugloversonly @jackiemonroe5512 @thestarslittleking @jonesen4coffee @virginlemontea @blackpanzy @littlebluejane @paintsplatteredandimperfect @astrid-nomically-steddie @maferisa-7 @phantomrose17 @child-of-cthuhlu @sofadofax @thoughtfulbreadpolice @fandomnerd103 @artemisiscursed @croatoan-like-its-hot @silenzioperso @myownworstenemyyy @feral-possums-in-the-bog @mente-sindescanso @mrslectermoriarty @y4r3luv @a-couchpotato @aknelimdoogladania @she-collects-smut

…

Thursday came in a false sense of security.

Steve woke up to the gentle sun in his face, the breeze of an open window in his hair, and his son’s chubby baby fingers wrapped around his hand.

Steve grinned sleepily at Louie and laughed when baby Louie smiled so wide back at him that his paci fell out.

Steve held Louie close while preparing a small breakfast of eggs and toast, then continued to hold him while making his bottle and setting out a few cheese puffs for him teethe on.

Steve made sure Louie ate first, helping him hold the bottle and then laughing at the pure mess he makes with the cheese puffs. Then Steve himself ate. Clean up was quick enough witch a wet rag and a speedy wipe-down.

Later on, just as Steve was thinking about preparing lunch, the front doors opened.

“Shit. Shit shit shit SHIT.” Steve angrily whispered to himself. Little Louie stared at him from where he was propped on the couch, not a thought behind his wide eyes. Though he obviously knew something was wrong with his dad.

Steve was quick to buckle Louie into his car seat, bundling him up with a blanket and giving him his bear.

“Stephan? Are you in the living room? Come grab our bags, please,” Cynthia Harrington called from down the hall.

There was no getting out of this. No way of getting Louie to the car without his parents seeing. But he’s sure they already knew of the baby, or suspected something. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln were nosy motherfuckers set on ruining Steve’s life.

Steve sighed and looked at Louie. He knelt in front of the car seat and rubbed a hand gently on his son’s face. Louie grabbed his finger and smiled around his paci.

Steve wanted to cry.

“Stephan! Your mother called you so answer her!” Richard Harrington yelled. Steve heard the wind outside pick up aggressively and cursed the mornings sunshine.

“Coming!”

Steve padded into the hallway where his parents were taking off their jackets. Cynthia and Richard were picture-perfect— or they would’ve been. If it weren’t for the pressed line of his mother’s mouth and the hard line of his father’s jaw. Steve knew what was coming before they did.

“Stephan, the bags.” Were his mothers first words to him. Not “Hi, son, how have you been?” Not “Sorry we’ve been gone for nearly 8 months.” Not “How are you feelings after that concussion from last November? We’re terribly sorry we couldn’t stop work to simply call and make sure you were ok.”

No. None of that. Instead he was demanded around like a fucking dog.

“Um. Actually, I had to talk to you both. If you don’t mind—“

“Save it. Take the bags upstairs and meet us in the living room,” Richard stated harshly.

Steve flinched. He hated himself for flinching. But they couldn’t go in the living room. Not while Louie was still in there.

“Actually, dad— it’s very important and I just really need to talk to you guys—“

“Stephan!”

Steve winced at the pitchy tone of his mother.

“Please, I promise— It’ll be worth your time, just— just give a minute, please.” He was begging now. He hated begging.

Richard had grown tired of Steve’s fumbling for words and shoved past him. Steve knocked into the wall with the harshness.

“Stephan, you will listen to your mother and take the bags upstairs and meet us—“

“Dad, wait—“

Richard stopped in the doorway to the living room, whatever insult or command he was going to throw Steve’s way dying on his tongue.

“Stephan. Why, in the Lord’s name, is there a baby’s car seat in my living room?”

His tone was calm. Steve knew better than to think he was actually anything other than furious.

“Thats— that’s what I needed to speak to you about. Please, I—“

Steve should’ve anticipated the slap.

But he didn’t. And his head snapped to the side with the force that left him seeing stars.

Steve didn’t stay long enough to listen to his dad yelling slurs or his mom crying. He simply grabbed Louie’s car seat, picked up his shoes by the door, and left.

.

Steve had been driving for near three hours before he pulled over. He’d circled the entirety of town before finally pulling into a small dirt path by the quarry. Belatedly he realized someone was crying.

He hurried to get out of the car, rounding to the back and sliding into the backseat to sit next to Louie’s car seat. But Louie wasn’t crying, he was sound asleep.

Steve realized he was crying.

He startled when a broken sob tore itself out of his throat. He hurried out of the car and dragged himself the few yards to the edge of the quarry.

He sat down and let the rain pelt him from all angles. His face stung. Steve knew the slap would bruise phenomenally in the morning. It’d probably affect his tips at work.

He swung his feet idly on the edge, belatedly realizing he wasn’t wearing his shoes or even socks for that matter. His heels where starting to bleed from each time he rammed them into the rocks on the edge of the cliff.

Steve doesn’t know how long he sat there in the rain. He snapped back to reality when a particularly loud burst of thunder rumbled in his gut. He went back to the car.

Louie was still sound asleep. Steve figured he himself should most likely sleep as well. He didn’t know when he’d be able to get a place for them, but he’d already been saving up.

He curled up in the back seat next to baby Louie. He didn’t bother with a blanket, and he knew he’d get a cold with his clothes still being wet, but he deemed it fine.

Steve’s sleep was fitful and restless. Filled with slurs and yelling and running from monsters that shouldn’t exist.

.

It was a week before he finally got a place.

Not that long, sure. But it was a week of pure dread and exhaustion and nightmares.

The trailer he was looking at was located near the edge of Forest Hills. It was two bedroom one bathroom and had a small living room (with no ceiling light) and a kitchen (that barely had any wiggle room). But it was his.

He’d been at work when he got the call— as that was where he told the landlord to call. Mason— the line cook— called him back.

“Hey Steve-o! That landlord guys on the phone!”

Steve jumped so hard he nearly spilled the waters he was carrying.

“Be right there, Mace!”

Steve was quick to get the waters to the table 7 and take their orders for the night before he rushed back. He tossed his notepad at Mason and snatched the phone.

“Hi, Mr. Gardison!” he greeted cheerily.

“Stephen, hi. So…”

And Steve was given the trailer.

He was vibrating with excitement by the end of his call. When Steve returned the phone to its holder he was picked up from the ground in a bear hug. He laughed and hugged Mason back.

“You got the place!” Mason cheered.

“I got the place!” Steve laughed.

The rest of his day went swimmingly. He would be able to officially move into the trailer on Friday— which was fine by him. Two days of waiting was nothing.

Steve was given congratulations from a few of the regulars. Mr. Jinkins gave him a good slap on the shoulder while Miss. Gladson pulled him into a hug. They tipped him an extra 5 dollars each before they left.

At the end of his Wednesday shift, Steve gave out hugs to most of his coworkers. Mason, Allya, and his boss Michelle got hugs while George and Gwen got high fives. Steve left feeling light on his feet with a to-go bag for dinner.

Thursday was filled with the lunch rush. Steve had to take his break early to check on baby Louie in the back. He felt bad turning George’s manager office into a daycare but George assured him it was fine.

“Hey honey,” Steve’s cooed at the baby in his arms. “How are you doing, huh love? You’ve been cooped up for so long I know.”

Louie gripped his baby hands into the front of Steve’s apron. He was back in the kitchens today, Allya taking his place up front waitressing.

Steve hopped around and lightly bounced Louie against his chest, humming quietly and gently.

Louie whined and continued to cry.

“I know Louie, I know. You hungry? Hang on baby.”

Steve made sure Louie was fed and burped and laid him done for a nap. He only had an hour of his shift left.

Thursday finished off normally and Steve left with his usual dinner. He drove out to the quarry and parked before sitting in the backseat with Louie to eat.

Eventually he took Louie out of the car and sat with him on the rocky ground of the quarry. Steve held Louie close in his lap, letting the baby play with his hands and fingers and babble about nothing and everything.

Steve occasionally answered with little gums of encouragement, but for the most part he let baby Louie talk to himself. He was lost in thought, daydreaming about the trailer and how they got to move in tomorrow.

Before Steve knew it Louie had fallen asleep and he himself was on the verge. He got them both settled in the backseat once more and allowed himself to drift off.

…

We’re finally, maybe, getting somewhere lol. Tag list is open to everyone still, feel free to ask for a place!! We’ll get into some of Steve’s school life in the next part hopefully 🤞

Part 3:

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 5: Man Of The Hour

Life is mildly less sucky with depression being more managed (also the mood boost from Renaissance Faires 😁) and my weekends being free again for me to travel to see my person. Still full of dumpster fires but I want to scream about it less. Also, been in feels very similar to the ones that inspired this whole endeavor so... enjoy?

Anywho, here's part 5! Enjoy, my little nerdlings. As always, feel free to yell at/with me in the comments, tags, reblogs and/or ask box. If you see any mistakes feel free to message me about them. 😬👌

Part 1: Hop Fucks Up, Part 2: Pride and Prejudices (Joyce Edition), Part 3: One of Us, Part 4.1: With A Capital P, Part 4.2: Robin's Boy

Steve Harrington was an odd duck. That's what his grandmother always used to say. She would pat his already proudly coiffed hair as he hung off the arm of her rocking chair and tell him as much whenever his parents took him to visit. He would beam at her with his big (reportedly pinchable by every aunt and grandmother in the family) cheeks and quack at her before cracking up at himself like he told the funniest joke and she would let him laugh until he rolled himself off her armchair to the plush carpeted floor. She would laugh and reach way over the arm of her chair to poke his stomach or cheek or nose, sometimes just his little forehead, before leveraging herself up out of her chair and taking herself to the kitchen to boot his mother out of it. Steve Harrington was a certified 'odd duck'.

Steve isn't sure, as he sits in that old rocking chair he had stolen liberated from his parent's house when he moved into his new apartment, when he became whatever he is now. He slowly rocks himself back and forth, the chair creaking a little as his weight shifts. The kids and other teens are chattering on the walkie but it's nothing too pressing, just nonsense and junk food emergencies, Mike cursing out Hop. His ribs hurt and his nose is sore but it doesn't feel like anything is broken. It sucks he knows what broken feels like. It sucks that Robin is kind of mad at him for getting hurt enough Owens pulled rank and had him dropped off at home and assigned someone to be the Party's chauffer for the rest of the day. It sucks that all the kids have their own plans tonight, leaving him to try and find ways to keep himself distracted without their usual insanity. A lot of things just kind of suck these days.

He feels himself smiling and picks up the walkie to confirm that he was alive and resting like ordered when he hears Dustin bickering with Robin about invading his apartment to check on him. That doesn't suck he supposes. He knows Robin and the kids care and he knows that eventually the soldier tasked with driving his hellions around is going to be bullied into driving them to see him, other plans be damned and the thought makes him smile.

The smile drops when he hears what sounds like a soft knock at his door. It's too sharp to be Widow Bea two doors over who leans on her walker and kicks the bottom of his door with her soft leather slippers that belonged to her late husband when she needs him to fix a cabinet or mix batter for whatever pastry she was making that week. And it's not the distinct pattern of Clara Damon from down the hall who will come and tap at his door to ask if he has an extra cup of sugar or spoonful of flour as she bats her eyes at him simpering about how she's making cookies or a pie or a casserole of some kind and inviting him to dinner with her and her folks to have some. He's always got an empty pantry and a surplus of plans when Clara Damon comes knocking. He and Widow Bea have standing poker nights with the other older ladies who all meet at the recreation building.

(It used to be the Harrington house. But his parents decided to sell to prove a point when they up and kicked him out and Owens needed a place to set up a promised recreation space and the gym was already a relief supplies warehouse.)

But the knock at his door isn't either of those. It could be someone else in the building. Could be one of his neighbors who have started to associate Steve Harrington with fighting mutated wild dogs caused by government experiments gone wrong and hauling around kids who seemed to cheat death and holding I.O.Us signed by the U.S army instead of the absent Harrington socialites who are known for swanning into town, flaunting their wealth and making themselves scarce again. The ones who he can sometimes hear whispering about him as he makes his way down the street or through Melvald's.

The knocking comes again, louder this time and firmer. It could be a lot of things and he doesn't want to deal with any of them.

Steve sighs, it could be important. He gets up to answer the door, breathing slow and shallow and letting himself lean on walls as he makes his way to the door. A third round of knocking and he's starting to get tired of it. He takes a slightly painful breathe to call out to whoever is trying to knock down his door to calm themselves down when, "Hey kid, Harrington, you in there?" That stops him a foot from his door.

His ribs hurt and his nose is sore and his leg is throbbing where a demodog got a lucky swipe on the meat of his thigh. But nothing is broken. His leg will be fine in a day or two. He hates that he knows what broken feels like. He hates that he knows what infected feels like. He hates that he knows the stone in his stomach and the clenching vice around his lungs has nothing to do with his injuries. His ribs scream at him when he pulls himself as tall and straight backed as he can, shifting himself so his weight is on his good leg and he can (hopefully) use the hallway wall and doorframe to support himself long enough to talk to Hopper and send him on his way.

He opens the door with a smile and feels himself falter a little when he sees Hopper standing there in a big tan canvas jacket and baseball cap and he's reminded of the times the older man would show up on his parent's doorstep with the same look on his face asking questions Steve didn't always know how to answer.

"Hey, Hopper." His voice is light and smile wide and loose and he just needs to keep this up. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Heard you got a bit banged up on a patrol?"

Steve shrugs. It takes more than he'd like to hide the pain that causes. "Just a couple bumps and bruises, nothing I can't walk off after a decent night's sleep. Owens is just paranoid these days, ya know."

"Owens huh?"

"Uh, yeah? That's who told you right? Cause I took a couple hits?" Hopper doesn't say anything, just looks at him with something that Steve might have once thought was concern about his potential injuries. He doesn't know why today of all days Hop decided to show up cause he got knocked around a little more than planned but it doesn't bode well when something in his face shifts and he lets out a tired sigh. "Oh, but don't worry!" That came out louder than he intended. "I'm totally fine. Like I said, I just need to walk it off and I'll be back out there in no time. You don't gotta worry about a thing, I've got it handled. Like I said, Owens is just overreacting. Nancy can cover for me tomorrow and then I'll be right back on the roster I promise. You and Mrs. Byers don't have to worry about a thi-"

"Steve. Shut up." He feels his jaw snap shut, the edge of his tongue and inside of his cheek getting caught in his teeth. "I didn't hear it from Owens. The kids told me. Owens knows you're hurt?"

"Uh, ye-yes sir. He's the one who sent me home. Gave the kids a detail to transport them and keep them protected while I'm out of commision. One officer to drive them around and they're being tailed by at least 3 others in case anything happens."

"Four soldiers just to replace you?"

"Oh they're not in that much danger! I'm perfectly capable of watching them usually, its just that Owen's guys are still kinda green even this deep in. Most of them just can't wrap their heads around the whole 'other dimension stuck in 1983' side of things." Hop's eyebrows shoot up under the bill of his cap. "But again, it's fine! I always take point whenever we go into a new sector and those guys are good as backup at least."

"But you're hurt." His eyebrows have come back down but now they're furrowed like he's confused or upset.

"Just a little!" He is not making things better. "I swear Hopper, you guys don't have to worry about a thing. I've got it handled, you don't have to-"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington! Just shut up!" Steve flinches back, stepping further into his doorway as Hopper yells. The older man sighs, a big hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He tries not to think of the times Robin and the kids have made fun of him for doing the same, calling it one of his 'dad poses'. "Look, I didn't come to try and give you shit about getting knocked around a little being stupid and playing soldier. I came to- I was going to ask." He sighs and his shoulders slump a little forward and his eyes are focused on the toes of Steve's (very comfortable) bat slippers that had been a gift from Wayne once the kids had told him Steve had been the one to drag Eddie out of the Upside Down. "Did you want to come over for dinner?"

Steve doesn't think he heard him right. "What?"

"Joyce is making some sort of spaghetti casserole-"

"Isn't that just baked spaghetti?"

"And we wanted to have you over. We haven't talked much since I came back. I'd like to change that."

"What?"

"You, dinner, at our place? With me and Joyce and the kids? I think Jonathan is bringing Nancy." Steve flinches and Hop silently curses himself bringing up the ex who cheated on him and the guy she cheated with.

"Why?"

"Uuh... Talking?"

Ah, he had it now. "What did the kids do? Just, lay it on me man, and I'll take care of it. Did they say something? I can have them over tomorrow and talk to them. Was it Mike, it was probably Mike, I'll get him to apologize, just-"

"Goddamn it Harrington I just wanted to ask you over for some dumbass spaghetti casserole thing and a decent conversation. Maybe watch a football game cause no one else in that house seems to enjoy a good game."

Steve isn't sure what's happening. "You want me to come to dinner. To talk?"

Hop sighs again. "Yes, kid. Just. Dinner and talking."

"Uh huh. Right. I'm just- I just need a minute." He tries not to slam the door in the man's face but he's definitely trying to be as fast as possible. He's not sure what the hell is going on but it has to be something because Hopper wouldn't just invite him over. And Joyce Byers definitely wouldn't want him in her house for something as simple as a talk and to watch football. It takes him longer than he'd like to reach the walkie on the little side table by his grandmother's rocking chair. His ribs are screaming at him and his elbow smarts from banging it on the corner as he turned into the sitting room.

"I need some sort of backup at my apartment. Like now please?!" He waits a second before pressing the speaker button again, "Over."

The walkie crackles and he hears an assortment of concerned chatter. "Steve?" Dustin's voice breaks through the general din. "What's the problem? Over."

"I- I'm not sure how to classify it? I've Got Hop at my front door but I think there's something wrong with him? Or something is trying to trick me it's him? Oh shit did I get Vecna'd??"

"Steve," Nancy snaps, shutting up most of the chatter and giving his rising panic something to focus on. "Why do you think it's not Hopper? Or that he's not in control of himself?"

"He- He invited me to the cottage for dinner?"

"What?"

"Yeah just dinner and talking? And that- that's weird right?"

Nancy sighs and Steve hears Hop say something from outside his apartment. He's running out of time. "Why is that so weird Steve?"

"Cause he doesn't like me. And Joyce really doesn't like me." He feels like that's obvious. "They don't like me and they're busy with other stuff. They wouldn't willingly ask me over for dinner and football or some shit so something has to be up."

"Seriously kid?"

He doesn't scream as he drops the walkie-talkie, spinning around to face the voice behind him.

"You're calling an emergency cause I invited you to dinner?"

Again, he feels like this is obvious. "Yes. I don't know what happened but we're going to fix it Hop, I promise. Or, like, if you're something controlling Hop or wearing his face or some shit I will figure it out and I will find the most painful way to kill you."

Hop runs a hand down his face again, he's going to have so many wrinkles after this. "Fucking Christ, kid. Is it so crazy that we wanted to try and get to know you? Make sure you're fed and taking care of yourself since apparently Owens isn't making sure you're alright?!"

What the fuck?

"Yes!" That seems to make Hop take a step back. "I tried for years to try and get the slightest acknowledgement from you! I've spent the last year taking care of the kids and monitoring the gates and fighting Powell and Owens every time they decide to try something stupid and almost get their men killed cause I realized you never meant it!" God he can hear his voice breaking and feel the tears starting to roll down his face. "You never meant it. But you meant it for El and Will and fuck, even Jonathan. And they deserved that. They needed you and you couldn't be there if you and Joyce were fighting with Owens and-" He can't hold back the sob that rips out from deep in his chest. "And I don't- I can't- I just-"

"Hey, hey kid. I need you to breath for me. Okay? Can you just let it out in one push and take a deep breathe in."

There's a large, warm hand rubbing up and down his back. His running nose is throbbing, his sore ribs are probably cracked now from how tightly he's folded in on himself and his injured leg feels wet like he pulled the stitches when he dropped to his knees on the threadbare rug. There's a deep rumbling voice talking to him, telling him how to breathe and asking him to sit up, let go of the walkie he can hear crackling as people call his name and ask Hopper what's going on. It's all just too much.

Why?

"What was that, kid?" Oh. He didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Why?"

"I fucked up. I'm trying this thing called owning up to my mistakes." Steve lets out a wet laugh that turns into a pained groan when it shakes his ribs. "Come on, let's get you up here." He tries not to cry out when Hop lifts him up from under his armpits, pulling at his ribs, but he knows he lets out a sharp whimper. "You fuck up your ribs?"

"What do you think?"

"Yeah, dumb question." Hop chuckles self-deprecatingly. "Look, let's get your ribs wrapped and we'll get you down to the hospital to get checked out an-"

"No. No hospital. Can't do 'em."

"Kid you need to get looked at and maybe some pain meds and antibiotics while you heal up."

"No fucking drugs." Steve practically growls, his teeth clenched and eyes burning as he stares up at Hop. "I'll take your fucking antibiotics but I can take a couple of ibuprofen and call it a day."

"A couple of- What the fuck, kid? You can barely walk and you're telling me you're not in serious pain?"

"I've had worse."

"Bullshit." The kid winces and the look on his face closes off. "Stop trying to be a hero and just admit you need help." Steve rolls his eyes.

"I'm fine, Hop. I've walked off worse."

"Again, I call bullshit."

"You know how thorough our Russian friends could be."

"What?"

Steve shrugs, an angry grimace on his face. "Once you live through Russian military questioning and hiking through Upside Down Hawkins, most everything after that's a piece of cake."

"Jesus Christ-"

"I don't think saying his name is gonna make him listen to ya now."

"Ya ain't cute, kid."

Steve gives him the same smile he always did whenever Hop crashed one of his 'King Steve' parties. "I'm adorable." He chuckles at himself and Hop finds himself laughing along at the kid's attitude. "What do you want, Hopper?" Steve's voice is quiet. It wavers in a way that tells him the kid is sad and hesitant and tired and Hopper can feel something niggling at the back of his mind. "You come over out of the blue asking me to dinner with your family like that's something we do. What the fuck man? What are you trying to do?"

"Like I said kid: I realized fucked up. Bad. And I'm trying to fix it."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

Steve leans back, the rocking chair leaning farther back than Hop feels comfortable with considering the kid's injuries but he manages to not rock back so far he falls. "Alright then. So what do you need?"

Hop can't follow this kid at all and he's not sure when that happened. If it's always been like that. "What are you talking about kid? You're the one that's all beat up." His mind goes back to swollen eyes and bruised knuckles covered in a rainbow of haphazardly placed bandages being fussed over by a group of dirty but uninjured kids. Bloody sailor uniforms rounding up rowdy kids without a mark on them despite obvious injuries and a slight limp and what might be bruised ribs. Bandages being removed to expose red raised around a strong neck that looks like someone took barbed wire to it and bulky bandages poking out from beneath stolen shirts. "What are you talking about what I need?"

Steve lolls his head to look at Hopper. For the first time all evening his eyes are trained on the older man unflinching and not anxiously darting away. His smile is more a resigned grimace. "What do you need to get Robin -and I'm guessing the kids- off your back?"

"It's not just because of them."

"But it is because of them."

"I want to make this right."

"It's not yours to fix, Hop. I've made peace with that. Thought I'd made that clear to the rest of them."

"I thought the kids didn't know."

"Not about you being my emergency contact and like, in charge of making big medical decisions if they couldn't get a hold of my parents. But that you'd stop by the house to make sure I hadn't like drowned washing my hair after I took a beating. That I put more stock in that than I should have."

"You were right to put stock in that stuff Steve. Fuck, if I knew anyone else in that situation I'd assume they'd basically adopted you. It makes sense."

Steve shrugs, wincing less this time. "That's life, can't fix it now."

"Will you let me try?"

"I mean. I'm giving you a get-out-of-jail-free card here man."

"And I'm not taking it."

"Well. It's there, whenever you decide to take it."

"Thanks but no thanks, kid."

"Hey, your choice Hop. Ever get tired of the boardwalk just say the word and it's yours. Do not pass 'Go!'. Do not collect $200."

"Monopoly, really?"

"My head may have gotten a knock too. Not a concussion but I'm a little... swimmy."

"Swimmy?"

"Uhm-hmm"

Hop chuckles, "You're an odd duck, kid, you know that? An odd, pain in my ass, duck."

Steve feels his face splitting in a wide smile that pulls at a small cut on his lip and lets his head fall back, his body finally starting to come down from the adrenaline rush that has been this entire interaction.

"Quack quack."

Tag list (I think this is everyone?)(If you see this post and your tag didn't work let me know cause they don't always work for me Idk why):

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus @wonderland-girl143-blog @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @steddie-as-they-go @steveshairspray86 @youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars @i-amthepizzaman @wormapothacary @croatoan-like-its-hot @maya-custodios-dionach @ineffable-monster-romancer @asquareinverona @ellietheasexylibrarian @pukner @bookworm0690 @nightmareglitter @joekeerysmoles @salchica @lawrencebshoggoth @iheartjennaaa @child-of-cthulhu @anaibis @rocochen20 @katdeerly @samcoxramblings @fiore-della-valle

[hotluncheddie]

high masking autistic steve harrington follow on from this post

ao3

wc: 2.6k | rated: T | cw: description of a meltdown with semi aggressive stimms | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie and robin but this is about stevie), hurt/comfort, stobin soulmates, steddie, steve Harrington has shitty parents

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

he failed. he graduated. but he failed. those unsaid words between him and his parents. some get said. the bad ones, about him, they get said. over again like he’s 5 and being told is behaviour isn’t acceptable. that how he is isn’t right. ‘shape up or ship out’, basically. steve knows he can’t go anywhere new, not right now. only freshly recovered, physically at least. mentally; he’s still unacceptable. 

when steve works at scoops. it’s so fucking bright in there. so fucking bright, all day and he can’t focus and talking to people gets so much harder. it’s not like school where he can zone out in class and turn it on during lunch, in between, keep up his face with the people around him and sink back into his head during chemistry. no. now it’s all the time, customer after customer. that he has to talk to, put on a smile for, read so he gives them what they want and they leave happy. it’s exhausting. girls don’t like him anymore, they don’t react to him the same way. he doesn’t think he likes them much either though because they’re so much more annoying when it’s so fucking bright. 

but robin (robin who cycles to work with sunglasses on and doesn’t take them off till she has too) she turns the lights down during open and close. so those couple hours, it’s not so bad. not so stressful. a little bit less loud. 

after the mall burns down steve starts letting her in. tries too. she makes it obvious enough to him that she wants him there. she asks him to stay and calls him at night and he just wants to be enough for her. eventually he’d swallowed his pride and bolstered his courage and called her after a string of nightmares. asking her to stay the night. but then she was there, and it was like everything was thrown off. she was grating on his already freyed nerves but he didn’t know what to say. how to fix it without upsetting her. 

but that night, a mirror of the mall bathroom played out in steves en-suite. steve had freaked. hidden. but she didn’t leave. and he tried to explain. 

he needs her but he doesn’t know how to have her as a true friend. ‘i dunno how to talk to a girl if i don’t wanna date them. i uh, maybe, don’t really know how to talk to someone as myself. as a friend. sorry.’ 

‘well i don’t know how to talk to jocks so. same boat.’ and she has this glint in her eye. like she knows. and it’s okay. 

because robin, she made it simple. she makes it easy. she says just ask and she’ll be honest and give him a yes or no. she’ll say if she can’t be touched right now, or if the movie he chose is pissing her the fuck off. and she wants the same from him. if the music is too loud, if she needs to let him not speak for a while. wants him honest and present and real. real friends. someone close. finally. 

it’s rocky at first. she’s honest and he’s not used to it. it feel like criticism more often than not. makes him see red and lash out, like he was never able to with his parents. but he apologises and she stays. and he’s learning; that’s it’s okay, he’s not perfect and that means she’s knowing the real him. and she’s still his best friend even if he has to tell her to stop picking her nail polish off around him because it makes him want to die. and she laughs at him the first time she sees him in real recovery mode; hair not styled and he has on the only sweatshirt that ever feels good when he’s like this. 

they lay on the floor in darkness and silence. it’s perfect. they share a tin of soup and a grilled cheese. it’s perfect. 

being around robin as much as he is, its so new, having someone see so many parts of you. sometimes she laughs at him asking steve ‘why’d your voice change?’ but steve didn’t even know it had. he was, he was just talking to someone else quick, being nice like you’re supposed to, attentive to make them feel good. he didn’t know his voice changed that much. 

‘girls would like you more if you talked normal to them. how you do to me.’ 

steve swallowed thickly. he just. he just doesn’t know that thats true. nancy left, he talked to her about lots of things, too many things. she like him better at the start. before some of his black tar innards spilled out. before he freaked. before he was able to paste himself back together and she saw him for what he really is. 

he thinks of his parents. how they don’t know him and still don’t like him. anxiety prickles at his fingertips at the thought of those times they do come home. 

because with them there the routine he’s carved for himself, those quiet moments of darkness that he so craves. they’re gone. now it’s tv static and plates clanging and having to show his face at dinner again. but he’s not ten anymore. now he’s an adult whose still drowning in the tension of the room, never able to say what’s really going on, never allowed to ask how they really feel, never taught how to figure his feeling out. no listening ear for steve as a child, and the ice only grew thicker with time. 

it’s his skin itching at his mother stirring her tea across the house, spoon agains porcelain. it’s the hair on the back of his neck standing up at the sound of ice clinking in his fathers scotch glass. it’s triggered memories playing over and over again. it’s being plagued, by ghosts who haunt him, who left but come back every so often, like poltergeists. polietgists with the deed to the house, and ownership over steve, through blood and fear alone. 

‘when they get back you come to mine steve yeah? you come home.’

because now theres not just robin. there’s eddie. 

he sees everything. and more. even when steve’s trying to hide. eddie sees. 

he noticed steve squinting at the hospital and asked the nurse to turn the lights down. he saw how he started zoning out at a diner with the kids, their arguing reaching a pitch, asked steve to keep him company for a smoke break. once they were outside eddie said he just needed a moment, ‘those kids can be animals’. said it and looked a him like he didn’t need an answer, let steve just breathe a focus on the sound of the wind. 

it’s like there’s a million tiny moments, a million tiny cracks in him forming the more he’s around eddie. like his soft underbelly is mewling any time he’s around, wanting attention, wanting to let eddie see. let eddie touch. 

eddie used to look at him sometimes, across the lunch hall. stare at him with an expression steve couldn’t really make sense of. he used to think it was judgment, annoyance. now he wonders if that face was confusion or interest. maybe eddie’s always been trying to figure steve out. 

once it starts. them. eddie’s everywhere. more somehow, maybe, than robin because, you know, they go there. but it’s different, from those time, with those girls. instead now he’s there and his brains off and on in a, like, magical way. a new way that makes him feel whole and, and beautiful. 

this thing they have. it’s fragile. it’s not perfect. he messes up, takes him a moment to grasp how eddie can be so so himself, always, no matter what. especially when it causes him problems. ‘why not just try and fit in?’ but the stone faced reply told steve that was the wrong thing to say, he didn’t get it but he needed to respect it. respect eddie and his choices. ‘i’m not like you steve, even if my brain shit was all gone i’d still be poor, i’d still be othered. still be a gay weirdo little freak.’ 

and steve is trying to get it. he’s learning to recognise that it’s sadness and confusion in eddie’s eyes when he visits him at work, knowing steve is having a bad day and watching him pretend. watching that mask form thick and fast, hiding the real him, protecting but also keeping everyone far far away. steve thinks maybe they’re living parallels. finding different ways to survive. neither better, neither worse. both far from perfect. 

then that pinched sadness in eddie’s eyes. watching steve pretend. cover up. that damn breaks eventually. eddie sees all of him and more. those bits he always kept locked inside. between he and himself. it all comes spilling out. 

they were supposed to be going out soon. but eddie wasn’t feeling it anymore ‘let’s just stay here, be cozy a little longer. what do you say, sweetheart?’ it does sound nice. steves so tired. but they decided. they had a plan. 

‘we said we would. and i have to buy that thing eddie. we had a plan. and i have to go to work later, so we have to do it before. like we said and then i have to work eddie.’ and before he knows it there’s tears prickling his eyes and the ceiling fan is so loud and the desk lamp is too bright and he smacks a fist to the top of his head and it hurts a little but he’s so frustrated and so overwhelmed and so confused and embarrassed, suddenly. and he can’t breath. why can’t he breath? they had a plan. 

they were supposed to go see hopper and pick something up and he has to talk to him and ask about the game because he needs hopper to like him because it’s better when el can come when all the kids hangout. it’s important that she’s happy so hopper needs to trust steve so steve was going to talk to him today and pick something up. it was the plan. hopper makes him nervous but that was the plan. and then he had to go to work. but now he can’t breathe and he feels like he needs something to hurt. 

‘but he already trusts you with el stevie. hop trusts you with anything.’ 

‘i can’t know that. not for sure. when i talk to him it needs to be perfect.’ steve paces. a pinch at his arm. a tug at his hair. pivot. pace. repeat. 

‘i heard what he said to you steve, on your birthday, he was calling you son all day. you don’t need to prove anything to him.’ 

‘i do eddie! you don’t understand. people, they lie. adults lie. they don’t say things the way they mean. i can’t fuck up talking to him. not like i always fuck up talking to my parents. i need to do it better. do it differently. because everyone always leaves. and i just don’t want to be alone again.’ and the tears really start to fall and steve can barely breath and he’s so embarrassed. shaking hands try and cover his face but the tears slip through. 

and all he can think about is the plan. going to work. his vest hanging by the door. the way the plastic tapes feel in his hands. the smell of the bleach they mop the back room with. the day stretches before him. so many things in the way. so much anxiety still to come. if he can’t start, it can’t end. he gnaws at his lip. thumps a hand to his chest, trying to breath right, trying to ground. 

‘i have to go to work’ he mutters. like a prayer. speak it in to happening. taking him away from the now. thump thump thump at his chest. ear ringing. 

eddie’s holding his arms out, giving steve the option. he speaks so calmly, so earnest. ‘you can’t go to work steve. not like this baby.’

steve rounds on him. angry. when did everything get so messed up? if he was just left alone. he should’ve stayed on his own. ‘i cant just call in sick eddie! i’m not sick and and i hate the way they’ll sound when i say it over the phone and knowing what they’ll be thinking about me. they’ll know i hate the job and think i’m lazy and realise how stupid and useless i am and fire me. i can’t afford to get fired eddie. i’d rather just go in.’ he know it comes out garbled, his cheeks on fire. 

‘i’m not letting you go in steve. i’ll sort it. i’ll go pick up robin before and she’ll cover for you, she’ll explain. and she would never. ever think that of you.’ eddie’s voice dropped octave. he speaks clearly and plainly and finally there’s a new plan to follow. a new rule for the day. 

and all steve can do is curl up in a ball and sob. curl up in a ball against eddie chest, in his arms, squeezing his t-shirt between his fingers. clenching his muscles tight, his teeth grinding together. grunting out some of the decade old scream, still stuck there but more visible to him now. 

until finally finally, he relaxes. spent and exhausted. too afraid to open his eyes and face the lamplight, face what could be in eddie’s expression. he drifts..

eventually he gets up, blows his nose and splashed water on his face, turns off all the lights and get back under the warm blanket. fills his lungs. sighs. whispers, ‘m’sorry’ 

‘don’t say that. there’s nothing to apologise for’ eddie’s so close, so warm. 

‘no one’s supposed to ever, see that.. it’s okay if you want to leave’ 

‘steve. why the fuck would i leave you right now?’ 

‘who’d wanna date someone who acts like that? it’s. it’s not good eddie. but, but it’s okay. i’m used to being alo-.’ 

‘please stop stevie. your breaking my heart here. i want to stay, i want to be here with you. i really really like you steve.’ and steve’s cheeks feel wet again. he feels flayed open and young, like a little kid who fell off the swings and everything is different suddenly. 

later later when eddie picks robin up from work she stalks in to where steve’s wrapped up on the couch. curls up into his side and exhales. she bites into his bicep. huffing a sad, annoyed little ‘dingus’ before grabbing his hand and fiddling with his fingers. 

steve feels his eyes prickle again. looking up at the ceiling he croaks out a small ‘sorry.’ for the day. for everything. for anything he can be. and everything he can’t. 

robin kneels on the sofa right next to him. growling a little and placing one of her hands at his sternum and the other at the same height on his back. like she’s forcing herself inside him, holding him together. her hands start to rub up and down quickly, frenzied and grounding for both of them. steve let’s his head hang. eyes closing at the sensation. he grunts. robin grunts back. 

eddie joins. sitting at his other side. slipping a hand in steve’s hair, soothing his scalp with long scratching fingers. and steve humms, sighs, keens. eyes closed he drifts but not away from his body, instead into it. with gratitude, and warmth. at the centre of the two best things that ever happened to him. willing to try again. be just, better. never perfect. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

pt 3 snippet

a little happier for u @pearynice <3

ty @spectrum-spectre @vampyreddiemunson @fangirlycupcake @grandwretch for ur tags and additions, it was very inspiring

and tags for lovely @irethsune @willim-billiam-byerson @2jug2head

[nburkhardt]

✨ Thoughts while listening to Taylor Swift ✨

Steve trying his absolute hardest not to fall for Eddie. Because he knows Eddie’s destiny. Knows that he’s meant for big things, that he’s going places and will be successful in the future.

That Eddie’s meant for more than him.

So, Steve tries his best to keep his heart from falling.

When the last of Eddie’s friends graduate and all of them are packed up, ready to get the hell out of Hawkins, Steve’s there to wish them a goodbye and to take the world by storm.

He’s hugging Eddie tight, feeling his eyes burn from holding back the tears. Trying to enjoy the closeness and warmth, trying to keep the sob back that’s wanting to break free.

“Stevie…”

Shaking his head, he squeezes Eddie and pull away, “don’t, Eds.” He can’t look Eddie in the eye longer than a second, he smiles tight with a few tears finally falling, “take the world on, Rockstar. I’ll be watching, promise”

Eddie wipes his eyes, smiles and opens his mouth a few times before giving up and taking a step closer to him to press a kiss to his cheek before turning around and meeting back up with of his friends. The van is filled with all their things, soon it’s filled with Eddie’s friends and Eddie himself.

Waving, Steve keeps up the smile and it’s only once the van isn’t in his vision that it fully hits him.

That he failed.

~~~~

Oh, hello 👋

Was listening to “Come Back Be Here” and well, this little thing appeared in my head couldn’t help myself and i remembered I haven’t gotten my loves back for all the angst they’ve put me through. 🥰

Enjoy @i-less-than-three-you and @strangersteddierthings love youuuuuu

Permanent tag list under the cut.

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 28

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 25, part 26, part 27

It is a lot easier for Wayne to find Steve than he thought it would be. He had the vision of tires screeching out of the parking lot. Speeding down the road to his house or somewhere worse. But here Steve is, sitting on the curb outside the hospital doors. An unlit cigarette in his hands. Looking like he’s debating the world.

Wayne’s not sure why he followed him. He has every right to yell. Every right to question what that was. Why he came at Eddie with so much anger? Lashing out as decisions that had already been set in stone. Already dealt with.

After all this talk of telling Dustin that he can’t change what Eddie did, how he got hurt, Wayne thought that Steve was over it. That whatever happened between them was in the past. And all of them were ready to move forward and try to forget the pain.

But as he looks at Steve, the way his shoulders hunch and his arm wraps around his knees, the pain isn’t forgotten. Just hidden under the surface of someone trying to keep everything together. To be the strong one while the world falls apart. The bandage that keeps the dam from breaking.

Wayns sighs. Sitting down next to Steve and extending that olive branch. Telling Steve that he didn’t come here to scold him, or break whatever trust they’ve formed in these past few weeks. But here to be a person who will listen without judgement. The same way that Steve has for him.

“You know you’re supposed to light those.”

Steve stares at his hand, giving the cigarette a gentle flick. “I haven’t smoked in years. Don’t even know why I have it to begin with.”

“Because it’s familiar, doesn’t matter how long you’ve gone without them. Or how long you smoked them to begin with.”

There’s a long break of silence. Wayne waiting for Steve to open up. Explain himself. Or maybe just get ready to put the mask back on whenever Dustin finds them. Either way, Wayne will be here next to him. Attempting to understand whatever is going on in his head. Be the sturdy post that Steve needs in this moment. Giving him the permission to crack.

Steve eventually hands Wayne the cigarette, giving up on trying to smoke it. Wayne takes it, feeling the weight he’s so familiar with rest in his hand. Finding his lighter and holding it up to the end. Not letting it go to waste.

After a shorter silence, Steve takes a deep breath. “Barb Holland, Billy Hargrove, Jim Hopper, Max Mayfield, and Eddie Munson. Those are all the people that either died or got hurt while I could do nothing to stop it.”

Wayne can’t find the right words to respond to that. He doesn’t have to, Steve still has more to say.

“I didn’t really know some of them well. And some of them, I didn’t really care about that much. But I knew people that did, and I see what they all left behind. And each of them could have been me. It could have been me that died or got hurt. But somehow, no matter how many times I’ve almost died, no matter what I’ve done, the universe keeps picking me to save.”

“And it makes you feel guilty.” It’s an obvious statement, Wayne knows that. But he can’t seem to find the words to say. Trying to find something comforting without minimizing how Steve feels. Knowing that whatever he says isn’t going to stick.

Steve’s nod is full of guilt. Like he’s the reason all of this happened. That everyone got hurt because of him. And maybe they did, Wayne doesn’t know the full story. But what he does know is that Steve is still a victim in this. The scars are only a proof of that. Whatever’s going on with his head is proof of that. The way he’s feeling right now is proof of that.

“I’m still in the dark about most of what’s happened in this town, apparently. I only know what you’ve told me, and I know that was only a partial story. But I can’t imagine that these people blame you at all. I know Eddie doesn’t. I can guess that Jim doesn’t. And Max. It seems like the only one who blames you, is you.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Steve tries to correct.

“Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. That doesn’t matter right now. Right now, all that matters is that you think that your life is worth less than theirs. I can tell you right now that isn’t the case.”

Steve’s huff is full of self-deprecation. Refusing to believe that what Wayne is saying is true. It breaks Wayne a little bit. Finally seeing the cracks beneath the hard exterior Steve presents himself in. He's what, a year younger than Eddie? Barely an adult and holding himself to an unreachable standard. Pining for perfection that isn’t wanted.

“You don’t know me that well,” he says. Like that makes some kind of point. “I don’t think you can make that call.”

He has a point. Wayne doesn’t know Steve that well. But he knows enough. He knows that this kid will do anything and everything for the people he loves. Fight the unfightable just to protect them. Shelter them with everything he has. Even if it breaks him in the process.

He drives Dustin to and from the hospital day after day, no matter how he’s feeling. He sat with Max while she was still here, and with the kids while they were dealing with everything. He sat out in the waiting room while Wayne wouldn’t let him in Eddie’s room, just to show that he was there. That he wasn’t leaving them behind. Not again, or never at all. Wayne’s not sure.

What he is sure of, is that these people care about him more than Steve realizes. He sees it in the way Dustin trusts him. In the way all the kids trust him. Even in the way Eddie lights up every time he enters the damn room. In the way Eddie’s voice broke when calling out to Steve to stay.

Wayne can see how much Steve is loved while knowing so little about him. It crushes him that Steve can’t see that for himself.

“I don’t need to know you to know that your life is worth something.”

Steve shakes his head like he still can’t believe what Wayne’s saying.

“How old were you when this all started,” Wayne asks, trying a new approach.

“Seventeen,” Steve answers in a whisper.

Wayne has to bite his tongue to keep himself from cursing. Trying to keep this conversation in the place it is, instead of his own shock. “You were just a kid yourself, how could you have made the right decisions?”

“I still could have made better ones. I was a dick back then. Kinda still am.” He says this like it’s an excuse. It's not.

“I’ve heard the stories, so I’m not going to fight you on that. But who you were doesn’t decide who you have to be. Or what punishment you think you deserve. Yeah, you might regret the actions you’ve made, I do the same thing. But it’s that regret that shows you that you are a good person. Bad people don’t regret their decisions. The fact that you do tells me a lot about you.”

Steve shakes his head gently. Almost forcing the words to bounce off whatever wall he’s built up. The disbelief in it’s mortar refusing to break. But Wayne can see how he hasn’t said a word out loud to dispute it. He’s still listening.

“I can tell you right now that those kids don’t believe a word of what you’ve said right here. They still want you here. And that girl, Robin, that you hang out with all the time. She does too.”

Wayne’s just trying to make the point stick. Not quite sure where the words are coming from, or how effective they are. But something about them seems right, so they continue.

“Eddie wants you here. Hell, I do too. You mean more to these people than you know. Your life is worth something to them. Don’t let it mean nothing to you.”

The tension in Steve’s shoulders starts to break. Loosening from the ball he’s curled himself into. For the first time, Steve turns his head and looks Wayne in the eye. A wealth of sadness and hurt hiding behind his eyes. Something that can’t be built in a few years, but a lifetime.

Whatever this feeling is, it runs deeper that what he’s saying.

“You really mean that?”

“I do,” Wayne says with a nod. Nothing but truth in his words.

There’s nothing but silence after that. Steve going back to staring at the concrete. But looking less troubled than before. Something knew ruminating in his mind.

He eventually stands, wiping off the palms of his hands on his thigh. Wayne takes a second before following, feeling the regret of sitting on nothing but a curb for this long.

“I’m going to go-.” Steve motions to the hospital doors. “You know, apologize.”

“You sure? You’ve been through a lot today. I don’t think he would mind if you waited a day.”

That’s a lie, he would mind. Probably would spend the night thinking about it. But right now, Wayne can lie. He can lie to give someone who’s gone through so much grief some peace of mind. Even if it’s just for a moment.

Steve shakes his head. “No. I think it might make us both feel better if I do.”

Wayne watches him walk back into the hospital doors. Leaning against the wall and pulling a new cigarette from his pocket. Stands out there as the wind starts to chill and afternoon turns to evening.

Eddie wouldn’t mind one day without him saying goodbye. Not since he’s in there talking it out with Steve. Probably on to something else at this point. With that glint in his eye that tells Wayne there’s about to be a whole new problem.

tag list (capping at 100, only 2 spots left): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Never Say Die [2]

| Part one | you are here | part 3 | part 4

Everyone seemed to want a part two… so here’s another part! (Also name title comes from a Black Sabbath song lol)

Steve took a few steps in the house. His hands shook as he barely could see through the shirt that was over his face. Concealing his identity from the neighbors. He knows that Hopper and Joyce’s intentions were positive, but his mind was playing tricks on him. For a split second he was back in Russia, blind fold over his eyes as he’s being dragged from a van. Still in his sailer suit. Blood all over his face, the ashes of star-court still lingering on him. Not even given the chance to wash them off on the flight here.

Though When the blindfold is pulled off he’s in the doorway of a very nice home, not in the middle of a Russian cell. He can feel his body shaking a bit from the memory. Before he takes a shaky breath, closing his eyes. All of this seemed a little to easy. What if he was making it all up in his head? What if he was currently in a cell right now losing his mind. He wouldn’t put it past himself. He has had dreams so real about returning home before, to only wake up and get the shit beat out of him.

Hoppers quick to stand in front of him. Protecting him. Steve’s eyes snap open quickly, tears slowly forming in his eyes when he realizes what the older man is doing. It’s been a while since someone’s protected him, and not the other way around. Sure, once upon a time in the prison someone did protect him. But that barely lasted a couple of days before the guy disappeared in the middle of the night. Now Steve knew he fought a demogorgan and lost.

“Mom, what’s going on?” It’s Will’s turn to voice his concern. Steve can’t see him through Hoppers back but he knows how his face is pinched up. Joyce, who was currently standing next to Steve smiles shakily. Tears in her eyes, light footsteps moving fast across the wooden floor start to come in their direction.

“Will, everything’s fine. It’s just.. a surprise guest dropped in. A good surprise. “ Joyce explains putting her hand up. Gesturing for the other to stop. Which is what immediately happens. “Why don’t you go back and tell everyone to go gather in the living room. Let them know we’ll be out in a second.” Joyce instructs. Moving forward out of Steve’s sight. Who can already picture her smoothing the boys hair, wrapping her arms around Will in a comforting manner. Something he’s seen thousands of times and has always envied.

“And tell them, if any of them even think about stepping out of that living room I’ll make sure no one’s allowed to play that Dogs and Donuts game.” Hoppers voice is stern. Steve was standing behind him and it was bringing the fear of god into him. Though he has to hold back laughter because he knows the guy was purposely getting the name wrong.

A few footsteps and seconds past and he can hear Will in the living room. Voices starting to echo through the walls as both of the adults. Who were very concerned, pull Steve into the kitchen. Joyce is already pulling food out for him. Setting a plate on the table within seconds. He hesitates, before he’s moving and awkwardly sitting down. Eyes skimming the room. A habit of his that he’s picked up. Within seconds he already knows where he can exit quickly if it was needed.

“How are you alive?” Hopper asks first, getting straight to the point. Moving and leaning on the table as he looks at Steve with that serious expression again. The same one he held in interrogation rooms.

Steve chuckles shakily, “Russian Prison.” He answers simply before he’s wolfing down his food. He’s sure he was going to throw it up in a little bit anyway. It’s been a long time since he’s had home cooked food. His stomach was already shifting uncomfortably from how much he was eating. “I didn’t die during the explosion thingy, I hopped down and well. Here I am. Woke up in a van in the middle of Russia later on and found my way back home. In quick summary.” Steve explains quickly. Body tense at even the mention of the prison. Thankful for the fact Hopper knew when to back down from something like this. Eyes filled with concern.

“How do you want to do this?” He asks changing the subject.

“We can pull them one at a time in here and have them see you?” Joyce tosses the idea out there.

“No. Just want to rip it off like a bandaid. Get it all done and over with. I cant-” Steve says shakily. Dropping the fork on the plate as he stares down at the table. “I can’t choose who I want to see first. I want to see them all at once or none at all.” He admits. Moving his eyes up to challenge Hopper. Unsure whether or not they were going to allow him to see them. There shouldn’t be doubt in his mind, but there was just a smidge. Hard to trust anyone anymore. He barely knew the two adults in front of him. Only a few awkward conversations in the past.

“Alright… you ready?” Hopper asks. Moving to stand properly. Not even bothering to battle whatever imaginary war that was in Steve’s head. Steve was not ready, he never would be. He moves standing up. Left arm holding his side as he nods his head. Moving to follow the other. Hearing the hushed panicked voices in the living room. A couple curse words following along with them.

Before Steve can get a step in Joyce is stopping him. “Hold on, let me give them a warning.” She smiles softly before turning and moving into the living room. That was still mostly bare from the move in. Steve shakily crosses his arms over his chest as he tries to focus on breathing. He didn’t want to freak out to much while everyone was. He had to be the emotional rock. He looks down at the floor, not wanting to look up at Hopper. Faintly listening to Joyce begin to ramble right behind him.

“So… this wasn’t planned at all. It’s news to me.” She sounded like she was crying already. “But- this person. You aren’t expecting him and I know some of you are going to be excited to see him but he has some injuries. So maybe try not to jump him or overwhelm him.” Joyce warns. Everyone’s already starting to ask questions all at once. “I’m serious guys. He came from god knows where, doing god knows what.” She says finally hushing the crowd down.

Steve finally gets his signal from Hopper. His hands were shaking as he moves. Carefully limping a bit to the doorway. One hand on his side as he leans on it. Eyes landing on everyone in the room. Searching for Dustin and Robin. “Where’s Henderson?” Is his first question. Eyes squinting trying to see, his vision wasn’t nearly as good as what it used to be. Along with the fact he could barely hear out of his right ear. But thanks to the amazing government he was able to get a hearing aid fitted.

He knew that everyone was going to be shocked, but the way everyone’s faces go white makes a shiver go up his spine. All color leaving the room with the acceptation of Eddie and the boy with long silky hair. Both who didn’t know him. Steve’s looking around the group, to many faces and reactions overwhelming him before he sees Dustin throwing himself at him. Moving away from Eddie, who was stunned by how fast the kid could move.

Before he could tackle Steve, Hoppers catching him as says something. Dustin’s already in tears as he moves more carefully as he still hugs him. Steve’s hands shakily wrapping themselves around him, only taking a second before he’s tightly hugging the boy. Squeezing his eyes shut as he feels like one of the numerous missing pieces was just placed in his heart. He didn’t realize how much he missed the little shit until now.

“I watched you die.” Dustin sobs, body shaking in Steve’s arms. Steve feels like a leaf, he’s close to falling from the effort to keep them both up. He’s in tears himself, when he catches the green of his letterman jacket walking in from the other side of the room. Coming from the bathroom most likely.

“What’s happening?” Robins voice is loud and clear as she looks at everyone. Not given a chance to process Steve standing in the walkway.

“Didn’t figure you to be a basketball jock there buck.” Steve laughs softly. Watching as it all hits her as well. And she’s already sprinting, squirming out of Hoppers reach as she nearly tackles Steve and Dustin.

“Ow ow ow, I think you guys just turned my lungs to dust.” He gasps in pain. Both of them stepping back from him as he nearly falls. Holding his side, as he try’s to steady his breathing.

“Here let’s get you sitting.”

Steve nods his head as he moves to Joyce, who’s concern was only peaking. Leaning on her a bit as she helps him to the empty spot on the couch. Which was right next to Eddie. He’s coughing a little, lungs burning from the pain in his side. A shaky inhale of air as he looks at the other curiously. Before his eyes move to land over on the boy with silky hair who was watching him confused.

“Hey.” He chuckles awkwardly lifting his hand up as the boy smiles waving back at him.

“This- this is Argyle.” Jonathan pops in. Looking anxious at the sight of him. Nancy looked like she was a goldfish.

“Hey wheeler.” Steve chuckles, not caring about her what’s so ever. Who he cared about the most were both standing in front of him now. Nearly hyperventilating. He opens his arms out a bit, “come on you dorks. Be careful of the stitches though. I am not redoing them again.” He laughs as they both move carefully. Robin in his lap curling in on his chest. He moves getting comfortable, the exhaustion getting the best of him as he offers a arm for Dustin who was also seeking some comfort. His eyes and nose were burning from the effort of holding back tears.

“No offense but you look like shit, and I can barely see.” Max tosses in. Standing up now to get a better look at him.

Steve snorts, “I can barely see or hear and you sound and look like shit kid.” He says amused. Earning a snort. “What happened to you?” He asks curiously.

“Vecna.”

He freezes. Everybody was looking at him as he glances around, “wait the big cone head looking dude with the ET fingers?” Steve asks. He hadn’t realized that he had made it to Hawkins within the time he was away. He’s gotten hints, even seen him once. Drawings of what he looked like up on the Russian walls. From his understanding he created a portal, to trade demogorgans for the life of the prisoners. Which was apparently how he got so strong to be able to finally reach his way to Hawkins and use his powers without needing the person physically in the upside down.

“You know who Vecna is?” Eddie asks, speaking for the first time. His voice is wavering a bit as he does.

“Well that’s not what me and the prisoners called him. But yeah. We were wondering why he stopped… well snapping our bones like twigs for.” He admits.

“Prisoners?” Is the question everybody all say at once. He winces as he tries to stay relaxed. He was starting to get overwhelmed. As much as it was a relief to see all of them it was getting a little to much.

“Yeah, Russians don’t take to kindly to someone ruining one of their bases.” He chuckles dryly. “Can we- um change the subject.” He winces as he moves a hand up to his head. Feeling a migraine forming. His head hasn’t been the same since he was near that radiation shit in the mall. He blinks as he feels a random nose bleed starting to hit him. Feeling dizzy Robin and Dustin hop off from him when he starts to shake more while underneath them. El moving and offering him a tissue with a knowing look. His hands shakily take the paper, confused as to why she would be looking at him like that. It was just a random nose bleed, he wouldn’t be shocked if he got radiation poison or something.

He moves back into the couch after a second of wiping his nose, completely worn out. Blinking at the effort it was taking him just to stay here mentally. His eyes meet Joyce’s who was already getting Hopper on it. “You look exhausted hon, why don’t you go get some rest in our room.” She smiles as he nods. Moving, his legs begin to shake as he holds the bloody tissue to his nose. Walking the way Hopper wanted him to.

Unaware but fully aware at the same time of the amount of eyes that were on him.

So… I only had a few scenes that I really wanted to write for this. This was one of them. The next part I also really wanted, and I don’t know how I’m separating each part. I’m used to writing 10k word chapters so this is kind of like fresh air lmao. So I’m just writing to relief some stress as I graduate in less then a week 🥳 I just didn’t expect so many people to also want to read this.

Though, I would like to say if you like the idea of Steve disappearing and coming back out of nowhere I do have another fic called Bark at the moon! (Sorry self plug) it’s on a pined post on my account and the link leads you to ao3! (It’s werewolf steve fic and he does disapear😉) ok self plug over. Thank you guys for showing so much interest! It means the world to me!

Tag list; I tagged everyone who seemed interested! Let me know If you want to be added :)

@totallynotagoraphobic @flustratedcas @shunna @spookednsaucy @steddie-as-they-go @estrellami-1 @xxbottlecapx @gregre369 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thing-a-ling @radioactiveartz @bestwifehaver @idkwwhatimmdoiing @goodolefashionedloverboi @bringmethelow @thescribblerdragon @starman-jpg @lilaclilyroses @resident-gay-bitch @wolfscreations @adhdsummer @victor-thee-corvid @happymediummm @decadentworld @sidebarre @foundintheshallows @jamieweasley13 @yellowdevilkitten @catlovesfandoms @gryffindorsareidiots @thephantomhood

[fandomcentralsposts]

Steve hasn't celebrated Christmas properly for many years because his parents are never home, and if they do show, it'll be a few days before, and they don't usually stay for new years. Because of this, Steve no longer has the urge to put up decorations. He doesn't bother with Christmas dinners or ugly sweaters or any usual traditions. But deep down, he loves Christmas. The lights, the trees, music, and snow are something a part of him still looks forward to every year he just knows he'll probably be spending it alone. Until he dates Nancy and the Wheelers, let him join them for Christmas and the years after Dustin and his mother would welcome him, although at times he felt like he was imposing he felt grateful he also made sure he bought presents for everyone all the kids and Nancy, Johnathan and eventually Robin he would also help cook for whoever he was staying with he wanted to make sure he was the perfect house guest so he would be invited back next year.

When he and Eddie started dating, Steve half expected he would be invited over at Christmas. Their relationship was going strong they were attached at the hip, and Wayne was very tolerant of them, and he seemed to like him, so he was hoping it would be offered. Except it wasn't November came and left, then it was December 1st, then 4th, then 8th, then 16th, and Eddie hadn't said anything. Which was fine. Christmas is a family thing, after all, and they had been dating for only 4 months. However, Robin and her family were going out of town this year, and Dustin and his mother were hosting his Aunt and Grandma and Steve didn't want to take up anymore space but he couldn't help but feel a tiny pang of rejection and grimacing at the idea of spending Christmas alone in his quiet, dark house.

On the 23rd of December, Steve was sitting in his room. Robin had already left, and family video had closed for the holidays, and Steve figured he shouldn't bother Eddie since it was so close to Christmas. He tried to distract himself by reading a book, wrapping presents he would give out on boxing day, but there was only so much he could do before his mind drifted back, too, his depressing reality. Just as Steve thought about pulling back the covers and spending the next 2 days in bed, the doorbell rang. He went downstairs and opened the door to reveal his boyfriend smiling widely at him.

"Eddie! Hi, I didn't know you were coming over, " Steve said, letting him in.

"Yeah, I wanted to surprise you, baby," Eddie said, stepping through the front door and kissing Steve on the cheek. "I have your christmas present"

Steve glanced at the poorly wrapped box Eddie was gripping with excitement.

"Oh Ed's you didn't have to-"

"Shhh, of course I had too it's Christmas, and you're my boyfriend now where is your tree?" Eddie said, venturing into the living room

"Um..." Steve trailed off suddenly embarrassed by the lack of decoration.

"Wow, you've left decorating really late are you waiting for your parents or something?"

"T-they're not coming"

"What?"

"They're not coming back for Christmas," Steve stated

"Oh my god baby, I'm so sorry," Eddie said, placing his gift on the coffee table and giving his boyfriend a hug

"It's alright Eddie really" Steve chuckled "They haven't spent Christmas with me in years so-"

"Years?!" Eddie said, eyes widening. "So you've been by yourself every year?"

"No, Dustin and Robin have invited me over, but neither of them could this year"

"Why didn't you ask me?" Eddie said sounding a little heartbroken

"I don't know a part of me thought you might ask first and then I thought Christmas is a family thing so you probably want to be with Wayne only"

"Stevie, you are my family too. I love you," Eddie said sincerely.

Steve couldn't stop the tears from welling in his eyes the way Eddie spoke so gently and rested his palm on Steve's cheek.

"I'm sorry." Was all Steve could manage not exactly sure what he was apologising for. Eddie shushed him and cleared his throat.

"Steve Harrington," Eddie started. "Would you please make me the happiest man alive and join me and my uncle for Christmas?"

"Yes," Steve said, laughing at the end.

Eddie and Steve didn't waste a second gathering some of Steve's things, the presents he wrapped, and drove back to the trailer park. Wayne was more than happy to have Steve over for Christmas, especially since he had an extra pair of hands in the kitchen. Eddie and Steve cuddled up on the couch that evening, their mugs of hot chocolate cooling on the coffee table. Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve's forehead.

"Merry Christmas, Stevie"

"Merry Christmas, Ed's"

[armored-angel4798]

2023

Steve knew, the moment he saw Eddie’s first message that he wasn’t going to like what they had to say.

EdM0112: Are you busy?

KingSteve: no, why?

EdM0112: I have some silly little news to give you. It’s nothing bad!

KingSteve: what is it? Wait, let me guess, YOU’RE PREGNANT!

EdM0112: hahaha, no, nothing like that.

KingSteve: so what?

EdM0112: I am engaged!

KingSteve: oh, really? That’s Great!!!

It was, in fact, not great. Steve felt like he couldn’t breathe. His chest felt so, unbelievably heavy and tears started pouring, unbidden, down his cheeks. Robin. He needed Robin, she would know how to help him. She helped him the last time his pesky feelings came out of the hole he had buried them in.

See, Eddie and Steve had never been good together. Steve was well aware of this fact, thanks to endless hours of talking to Robin. They were teenagers when they first got together, and neither of them had any clue how a relationship should work. Eddie was figuring themself out and they weren’t comfortable with Steve’s easy affection or deep wells of devotion and love. Steve had been too much. He had loved much too hard and much too fast and it ran Eddie away. They had never been good at the communication side of the relationship either. They were never on the same page or even in the same book most of the time. Yet, none of this had stoped Steve from giving his heart to Eddie. None of this made him think for even a millisecond that they couldn’t figure it out, that they couldn’t be together, that they wouldn’t be together forever.

Steve had always thought that he would be the one putting a ring on Eddie’s finger. Until Eddie handed his heart back to him in a million tiny pieces.

2019

“Eddie, please. I love you, Eddie.”

“Steve, we aren’t good for each other, can’t you see that? We haven’t done anything other than hurt one another this whole past year of dating.”

“You don’t have to do this Eddie! I can be better, I can be whatever you need me to be, just please don’t leave me.”

“Steve, the fact that you don’t see how fucked up that is only solidifies that this isn’t good for either of us.”

Steve was sobbing. He was sobbing and Eddie was mad at him. He just needed to know what he was doing wrong. He could fix it. He had to fix it. If Eddie left it would just prove what his parents had always shown him. He is unloveable. He is never good enough. Never strong enough. Never caring enough. Never enough. He just wanted to be enough.

“Steve, this has to be over. For both of us.” Eddie sounded so exasperated. So tired.

Steve nodded, still sobbing.

“I’m… I’m sorry that I couldn’t make you happy, Eddie. I’m sorry. Please, I love you.”

“And I’m sure I will always love you, but I’m leaving. I have to go. I can’t be myself here, Steve.” Eddie was whispering now, running their cool hand down Steve’s cheek. Steve watched Eddie’s tears roll down their own cheeks as they wiped his away. “I’ll still be just a phone call away, but I have to move on.”

Steve grabbed Eddie’s wrist and nodded. Giving up hurt worse than anything but he couldn’t keep causing Eddie pain. He couldn’t keep them here if they would be unhappy and anything other than wholly themself. Eddie moved across the country that day and never looked back.

2023

Steve isn’t really sure when he called Robin, but he apparently did because she was here. She was picking him up off of the floor that he had sank to, his phone still on the couch cushion behind him.

“Hey, hey, Steve” she patted his cheeks and he blinked. “There you are. What happened Stevie? You called but never said a word so I came to check on you. You don’t look good. Why are you crying?”

Steve brought his own hand up to his cheek, it came back wet.

“Eddie is getting married.”

“Woah, okay. I didn’t even know they were dating anybody.”

“Me either” Steve whispered.

“And how are you handling this information?” Steve gave her a glare that he’s sure lost some of its sterns by his no doubt puffy eyes. “Yeah, so not great.” Steve snorted. “Do ya want to talk about it.”

“I thought I was done with this. I thought I had moved past it. Why? Why did I break the moment they told me that they were engaged.”

“I’ve gotta be honest here, Steve, the situation you put yourself in wasn’t the best. You knew Eddie was moving on. They told you they were. You never really let them go. You stayed close and kept your own hopes up. This just crushed them.”

Steve flopped his head over on her shoulder.

“Why cant you be my therapist, again?”

“Conflict of interest, babe. I would be too clouded by my love for you to give you the advice you need.”

“It’s never stopped you before.” Robin chuckled and ruffled his hair. “I don’t think I ever actually let myself work through my heartbreak. I just kind of shoved it down far enough that it wasn’t a problem to keep talking to Eddie as if they’d never broken my heart. I still wanted them to be my best friend. Eddie knows me better than almost anyone, besides you, and it felt harder to lose that than to bury my feelings.”

“Yeah, you’ve buried more than you would ever let anyone you love even think of going through. Don’t you think you’ve held on to enough? Just let it go, Steve. It’ll be okay. I’ll be here.”

“You won’t leave me too?” Steve’s voice sounded so so small, even to himself.

“Never.”

And Steve broke.

[emi-gelfling]

Another steddie fic for y'all! Lots of romantic, fluffy/spicy tension between our two bbs, but also lovely moments of friendship with our Party of characters.

[mothofmyth]

Desperately touch starved Steve Harrington who absolutely cannot and will not ask for physical contact, but instead has a reputation for being a sleepy bitch and being able to fall asleep anywhere

In reality, he's faking it. If he's sitting next to someone, he will just pretend to fall asleep. Because then, he can let his head fall on their shoulder like he wants to without getting shoved away quite so harshly, and without being judged for it.

He pulled this trick with Tommy and Carol a lot, and later he pulled it with Nancy so often she not-so-subtly suggested he get tested for sleep disorders.

He never had the confidence in his relationships (friends, romances, family, etc) to ask, so he did what he could to just... take.

Maybe his parents only ever really gave him physical affection when he was asleep (or 'asleep'), rearranging him on the couch so he wouldn't wake up with a sore neck, or even carrying him to bed. Even if it was only for the sake of appearances or their own convenience.

[yearningagain]

hi guys i had a steddie fic idea that i cannot stop thinking about so i'm finally writing it, but i know if i don't write it all at once before posting, i won't finish it (as we've seen 🙄).

however i am determined to finish this thing, i don't know how long it'll be yet, maybe a long one shot, but i wanted to see if anyone would be interested in beta reading! it'd be bits at a time so i can keep things straight in my head, but the finished product will be released all at one time, even if it ends up being a multi-chapter fic. (plus i think the added help of a beta reader would help me keep to this shit bro)

anyways! this may be a complete shot in the dark, but i figured it doesn't hurt to try! please feel free to comment or dm me if ur interested :D THIS IS AN EXPLICIT FIC!! 18+ only pls!!! the primary tags (so far) will be:

- a/b/o (alpha eddie and omega steve)

- modern!au

- steves parents are shitty

- possible side buckingham

- fated mates/true mates/soulmates

- lots of sex. like. an ungodly amount.

- possible famous rockstar!eddie and baker!steve? not too sure yet what i'm gonna do with that lol

- steve harrington needs a fucking hug

- maybe some minor hurt/comfort and/or miscommunication but eventual happy ending

that's all i can think of rn but i will update as i go!!

[magicalmysteries777]

The Bloody-Handed and The Anguish of Loving Them - Epilogue.

Summary: Almost a year has passed since Eddie Munson died and it feels like the only person that isn’t moving on is Steve.

After spending the night studying a Dungeons and Dragons handbook, Steve is convinced he’s figured out how to bring Eddie back. Not only that, but defeat Vecna once and for all too. Now he just has to prove it.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Masterlist: Here.

Chapter: 10 of 10.

Chapter WC: 5.6k.

CW: Swearing.

This story can also be found on AO3 here.

Taglist: @ohmeg 🖤

July 14th, 1987 .

“My, oh my, Mr. Harrington - thou dost look ravishing on this fine evening.”

Steve smirked and adjusted his tie. “Mr. Munson, you flatter me.”

“One’s wit and charm knows nay bounds.”

“Eds. Voice.”

Eddie let out a small chuckle as he made his way over to the car door being held open by Steve. “Sorry. You know I go all medieval when I’m nervous.”

"Aw, you’re nervous,” Steve teased.

Eddie fastened his seatbelt and picked anxiously at the skin around his fingernails while Steve got settled in the driver’s seat.

“Would it help calm your nerves if I told you I had this?” asked Steve, reaching into the backseat to reveal a walkie-talkie with a large grin plastered across his face.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get me wrong, Dustin’s finally starting to stand up for himself a lot more but I highly doubt he’s going to be able to come to the rescue when half of the people at Enzos realise they’re dining with the town’s murderer.”

“It isn’t Dustin on the other end of this and you’re not a murderer.”

“Yeah, well they still think I am, don’t they?” Eddie answered with a grumble, snatching the walkie out of Steve’s hand and pressing down on the receiver. “Hello?”

“Eddie?”

“Hopper?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Everything okay? Steve only left about half an hour ago, surely they’re not sharpening their pitchforks already.”

“Oh, um, no. Everything’s fine.”

“Alright, kid, enjoy your date. You know where I am if you need me.”

If looks could kill, Steve would’ve died right there in Eddie’s driveway.

“Steve, we can’t do this. Let’s just go inside and watch a movie or something.”

“Yes we can and we’re going to have a great time,” Steve countered.

Eddie ran his hands through his curls and rubbed at his temples. “Are you sure? Because I can think of, like, a million reasons not to go out tonight. Half of the town still wants to see me dead because they think I’m the head of a serial killing cult and the other half that doesn’t probably will once they realise I’m on a date with a guy. Aren’t you nervous? What if your dad finds out?”

“Are you done?” Steve asked, waiting patiently until Eddie nodded. “If anyone says or starts anything, anything at all, then all I have to do is get Hop on the radio and he’ll be down there in a heartbeat. He cleared your name the second he was reinstated as Chief, so the whole town can think what they want but at the end of the day you’re not a criminal in the eyes of the law. As for my dad, I don’t care anymore. I’ve spent too long letting him dictate my life. I love you and I want a life with you. I’m not hiding to make other people happy.”

“I’m definitely a criminal in the eyes of the law. Hopper would know,” Eddie smirked.

“Fine. You’re not a serial killer then,” he answered, chuckling as he took Eddie’s hand in his. “I mean it, Eds. I want this and I don’t care who knows it. Now, would you like to go and get some of the finest lasagne that Hawkins has to offer with me?”

Eddie stared at Steve for a couple of seconds, a soft grin slowly growing on his face. “I would.”

They spent the night talking each other’s ears off and laughing like they were the only two people in the entire restaurant before heading back to Eddie’s to sink a couple of cold beers with Wayne, Elizabeth’s blues records on in the background.

It was the best first date that Steve had ever had.

June 16th, 1988.

Eddie had been running around the house as frantically as a headless chicken all morning.

“Did you iron my robe?” he called from the bathroom which he’d been locked away in for the last thirty minutes.

“For the third time, yes,” answered Steve, the slight roll of his eyes earning a small chuckle from Wayne.

“And do you know where my cap is?”

“It’s on the kitchen counter. Come on, Eds, hurry up or we’re going to be late.”

After another five minutes of twiddling his thumbs and exchanging anxious looks with Wayne, Steve finally heard the lock on the bathroom door click open.

“What do you think?” Eddie asked, presenting himself to Steve and Wayne for a thorough inspection.

“I think you haven’t looked this well-groomed since you were about twelve years old. You feeling okay, kid? Let me check you haven’t got a fever,” Wayne answered, mockingly holding the back of his palm against his nephew’s forehead.

With a quick swipe, Eddie knocked Wayne’s hand away from his face. “Oh, ha-ha. Come on, I’m being serious. Do I look okay?”

“You look very handsome,” Steve answered with a smile. “How much hairspray did you use?”

“I’ll get you a new can.”

“That was full before you got your mits on it!”

Eddie laughed. “You’ve brushed my hair before. You know how hard it is to tame these curls.”

“Fair point. Get dressed, man, we’ve gotta go. Everyone’s waiting for us.”

-

Steve checked his watch for the final time as he pulled the car into the parking lot of the newly refurbished Hawkins High School.

“Ceremony starts in fifteen minutes. They’re all over there waiting for us, come on,” he instructed, pointing over to the party and Hellfire Club members eagerly awaiting their arrival. “Jonathan’s got the camera.”

The large group had barely had time to exchange greetings or pleasantries before Jonathan had begun ordering them about and putting them into position to get all the photos he had written down on his list.

“I want the individual shots first, then Hellfire, Eddie with the girls, Eddie with the guys, the group shot, and then family. Got it? Okay, good. Dustin, you first.”

It hadn’t taken long for Jonathan to work down his list, reaching the last items with five minutes to spare.

“Mr Munson, do-” Jonathan began.

“How many times do I have to tell you, kid? Call me Wayne.”

“Wayne, would you mind taking the group shot for me? Then I’ll get a couple of you and Eddie.”

They all lined up against the wall, Eddie in the middle and the taller members of the party on either side of him, the younger and shorter of the group crouching in front of them.

“Okay, ready? Smile,” Wayne asked, clicking the shutter on the camera. “Jesus, Eddie, I said smile. What the hell was that? Let me take another one.”

Jonathan took the camera from Wayne and positioned him next to Eddie, instructed them to smile, and snapped a couple of photos of the two together.

“All done. I’ll get these developed for you tomorrow. Maybe the day after depending on how hard Eddie has us all partying tonight,” Jonathan told them, beginning to tuck his camera back into its bag.

“Not so fast,” said Wayne, stopping him in his tracks. “We need one more. These are family photos, aren’t they? Get in here, Steve.”

With the final photo taken, the large group filed into the auditorium to find their seats.

Steve was beaming with admiration for his boyfriend when Mr Higgins called him up onto the stage to receive his diploma, even if Eddie did flip him off right after and run straight into Steve’s arms cackling like a madman.

September 3rd, 1992.

Steve had never seen Jonathan so stressed out.

Between accepting deliveries, taking multiple phone calls with various vendors, and trying to keep Joyce’s motherly tendencies at bay, the poor guy had barely had a chance to eat breakfast or take a sip of water all morning.

“Here, eat this,” instructed Steve, shoving a granola bar into Jonathan’s hands. “You’re white as a ghost. You feeling okay, man?”

“I feel sick,” Jonathan admitted, fumbling with the packaging. “My hands haven’t stopped sweating all morning.”

“Eat that and go outside for some fresh-”

Jonathan’s phone began to ring for the umpteenth time that morning, cutting Steve off mid-sentence. “Hello? Yes, this is Jonathan,” he answered, once again exiting the hotel room to take a nervous lap of the corridors.

Eddie appeared in the doorway, staring down the corridor after Jonathan. “Jesus, he looks more nervous now than he did in the Upside Down.”

“He’s about to marry Nancy Wheeler, what did you expect? Besides, what sort of a time do you call this?” Steve asked sternly, looking at his watch.

“Technically not late,” he answered, the smirk on his face disappearing.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

“Could you?” Eddie asked, holding out his bow tie for Steve to fasten.

“I could… But you were late.”

Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically. “Please?”

“Joyce!” Steve called loudly, knocking on the wall.

“Steve, no,” Eddie reasoned frantically. “Steve-”

“Joyce, we need your help!” Steve called again, slowly retreating to the doorway to greet her.

As they heard the door to the hotel room next door open and close, Eddie let out a deep sigh, bracing himself for what was about to happen.

“What’s wrong, Steve? Oh, Eddie, sweetheart,” Joyce began, looking him up and down. “You look lovely. Have you been borrowing Steve’s hairspray again? Your curls haven’t looked this tame in years.”

“Yeah, well, it is a special occasion,” Eddie answered, glaring at Steve.

“I need to go check on Jonathan, I think the caterer just called. Could you help Eddie with his bow tie, please?”

“Of course,” Joyce answered, walking over to Eddie with her hand outstretched. “Give it here, son.”

Steve lingered in the doorway for a moment, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face as Eddie stood there awkwardly, trying his hardest not to fidget with the inevitably too-tight bow tie around his neck, each attempt at adjusting it earning a quick swat of his hand from Joyce as though she was trying to get rid of an annoying fly.

It had been a shock for Eddie when Joyce and Hopper inevitably accepted him into their little makeshift family of waif and strays with open arms, something which, many years later, he was still not used to.

He wasn’t a stranger to motherly love by any means. His mother, Elizabeth, had always been hands-on and caring when he was younger, eagerly doting on him from the moment he was brought into the world. She shared all of her kindness and compassion with him, along with a strong sense of justice and a love for music, fundamentally shaping him into the man that he would later become. Then she passed away when Eddie was six, leaving him to also be shaped by the cold, cruel hands of his father, Alan. So, a stranger to motherly love he was not - perhaps more like a distant friend.

“It’s fine, Joyce. Really,” Eddie reasoned, still trying to struggle free from her grip.

Joyce pursed her lips and stared at Eddie for a second, causing him to instantly relax and make his peace with the situation. “I just need to straighten it out, it’s crooked.”

Making his way down the corridor still chuckling to himself, Steve found Jonathan talking on the phone with the uneaten granola bar in his hand. “Jonathan Byers, you give me that phone right now,” Steve ordered, his hand outstretched. “And eat, for fucks sake. You look ill.”

-

The ceremony went off without a hitch.

With the guests in their seats and the bridesmaids and groomsmen in place, a beautiful piano rendition of ‘Here Comes The Bride’ started to play and Nancy, her arm linked with Ted’s, began to make her way down the aisle. As expected by absolutely everyone, Jonathan began to blubber the second he laid eyes on her.

Once vows were exchanged and rings were on fingers, the newlyweds, along with their friends and family, made their way into the beautifully decorated Reception Hall to begin celebrating.

After a couple of hours of photos, drinks, what could only be described as a small feast, many speeches about the happy couple, and a cake cutting, Nancy and Jonathan were called up to the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife.

As ‘Head Over Heels’ by Tears For Fears began to play, Jonathan wrapped his arms around Nancy’s waist and began to sway, mouthing the words silently, unable to take his eyes off of her. Halfway through the song, the guests were called up to join the couple.

Eddie took Steve’s hand in his own and guided him to the dance floor, the two of them swaying along to the music.

“Marry me?” Eddie asked, his voice merely a whisper.

“What?” Steve replied, dumbfounded.

Eddie looked at him softly. “Marry me?”

“You know we can’t get married, you big idiot.”

“Not right now, obviously. But one day, whenever those stupid fuckers at the Supreme Court decided we’re worthy of loving each other, marry me?”

Steve stilled for a moment and looked into Eddie’s big, brown eyes. “Like you even have to ask.”

January 24th, 1997.

Living life on a bus was something that Steve was sure he’d never be able to get used to.

Constantly being within arms reach of at least six other people, not to mention being able to smell them and their bathroom habits, for eight weeks was far too much for him to handle. A couple of days in the Winnebago with the party was enough to make him reconsider the whole ‘six kids and a road trip to Yellowstone’ thing, the bickering alone would have been insufferable, but a week on a tour bus for a two-step plan to surprise his fiancé for their upcoming tenth anniversary was very much doable in Steve’s book.

He’d first surprised Eddie by driving to Ohio and waiting outside the venue for the band to finish playing and come to sign autographs. He’d been in for a bit of a surprise himself when he learned that he too was now semi-famous purely because their relationship had gone public, a large number of the crowd outside asking for his autograph on posters of Eddie’s face while they waited. Damned gossip rags had nicknamed them ‘Steddie’ and plastered a photo of them holding hands on the front page.

The moment the doors opened and the band stepped outside, Steve got lost in the chaos and scrambling of screaming fangirls fighting to get to the front. Resigning further backward down the queue with his Eddie poster gripped tightly in his hands, he waited patiently alongside the calmer members of Corroded Coffin’s fanbase. That was another thing Steve was sure he’d never be able to get used to - fan culture.

Eddie, who had barely looked up from the last poster he’d signed due to the intensity of the line, hovered his pen over the picture of his face. “Who should I make it out to?”

“Steve.”

“Okay, Steve, here you go,” Eddie mumbled, scribbling his signature on the poster. He tucked the pen behind his ear and with an outstretched hand, finally made eye contact with Steve for what Eddie had dubbed ‘the thirty-second rule’ at meet and greets. “Holy shit!”

“Surprise!”

Eddie pulled him close into a long, passionate kiss, earning a few wolf whistles from the remaining crowd, before maneuvering him toward the crew and gesturing for someone to get him a pass. He very politely, although rather quickly, signed the rest of the posters and posed for pictures before telling the crew and his bandmates to make themselves scarce for an hour, dragging Steve onto the bus by the collar of his shirt before he’d even finished his sentence.

A text from Eddie’s manager an hour later revealed that the rest of them had gotten rooms for the night and the two of them could have the bus to themselves. Another text arrived two minutes later telling him not to break anything and to tidy up before morning.

His second day on the bus had been spent listening to an impromptu songwriting session whilst they drove to New York, arriving at the hotel three hours later. Luckily for him, New York had sold out so quickly that management had arranged another concert for the following night, meaning that Steve got a small break from squeezing into a bunk and could get a night’s sleep in an actual bed.

The morning of day three was spent nursing a hangover, thanks to one of Eddie’s after-parties with the entire crew, and trying to get a minute alone with Gareth regarding step two of his plan. When Eddie finally felt brave enough to go outside and attempt his morning cigarette after breakfast, Steve seized his chance and leaned in close enough to Gareth to ensure he wouldn’t be overheard. “The eagle is in the nest. Operation Switch is a go.”

Gareth beamed up at him. “Man, I can’t wait for this. His face is going to be a pic-”

“I can’t do it,” Eddie announced, making his way back to the table looking pale. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

At ten to eight that night, Corroded Coffin congregated backstage to begin their pre-show ritual for good luck before they began to hype themselves up to go onstage.

“Eds, can I borrow you for a second?” Steve asked, gesturing for Eddie to join him over by the spare amp he was sitting on.

“What’s up, handsome?” Eddie asked, adjusting the strap on his guitar.

“I know it’s early but I’ve got an anniversary present for you,” Steve began before Eddie promptly cut him off.

“Early? Shit, Steve, it’s months away. I haven’t even begun to think about what I’m getting you.”

“I know, I know, but I have to give you it while we’re here in New York. It’ll make sense, I promise.”

“Do I get it now?”

“Later.”

“Harrington, you tease,” Eddie answered, eyeing him suspiciously. “Right, I gotta get up there. Wish me luck?”

“It’s gonna be a great show regardless, but good luck,” Steve answered, kissing him on the cheek before pushing him back toward the band.

As always, Corroded Coffin put on a great show. The songs were heavy and the stage effects were hot, quite literally, ever since Eddie decided they needed to include pyrotechnics in the set. Eddie sang his heart out and jumped around the stage during solos, his energy radiating into the crowd as they jumped up and down, screaming his lyrics back at him.

Halfway through the set list, Eddie’s actual surprise arrived backstage with a VIP pass around their neck.

“You ready?” he asked as Eddie began to finish up the song.

“Hell yeah.”

As the last few chords faded out and the crowd began to applaud, Steve stepped out from behind the curtain and made his way to the center of the stage. A perplexed Eddie furrowed his brow at Steve as he stole the microphone from him.

“Let’s give it up for Corroded Coffin everybody,” Steve declared, causing the crowd to erupt again.

“What the hell are you doing?” Eddie asked, completely unaware that Gareth was sneaking off stage behind him.

“Sorry for the interruption, ladies and gentlemen,” Steve began, turning back to the crowd. “But I’ve got a little surprise for Eddie here and for you too. If you could all turn your attention to my left here and give a big round of applause for an honorary member of the band, I’d like to introduce none other than Ronnie Ecker to the stage.”

Eddie’s face looked exactly how Steve had thought it would as Ronnie walked over and hugged him before settling behind the drum kit. A mixture of pure shock, happiness, and overwhelming gratitude.

“You sneaky little shit,” were the only words he could find as he placed an arm around Steve’s waist and guided him back to the side of the stage. “Thank you.”

October 7th, 2014.

The doorbell would not stop ringing.

“You go,” Eddie argued, half asleep.

“You go, it’s your turn,” Steve retorted, pushing Eddie’s sprawled legs off of him and out of the bed.

Eddie let his body go limp as he slid onto the floor, landing with a small thud. “You go.”

Steve sat up and glared at him. “You’re already out of bed.”

“Fine,” Eddie sighed dramatically, picking himself up and walking towards the door.

“Pants,” Steve called after him, throwing a pair of boxers at the back of Eddie’s head before flopping back down onto the pillow with a satisfied grin.

No less than a minute later, Eddie flung himself back onto the bed face down. “It’s for you,” he grumbled.

Steve sat up again and his eyes landed on a rather excited-looking Robin and Vickie stood in the open doorway.

“Jesus, guys, it’s eight o’clock in the morning,” Steve said, his eyes now fixed on the alarm clock on his bedside table. “Surely whatever you’ve got to say could wait until a more godly hour.”

“Didn’t you hear?” asked Vickie, so giddy she was bouncing up and down on the spot.

“Hear what?” Eddie grumbled, his face smushed into his pillow.

“The Supreme Court declined to consider the appeal in the Baskin vs. Bogan case,” Robin answered.

“Buckley, for the love of God, get to the point. I should still be asleep,” Eddie argued.

“Fine. This should wake you up a bit,” she answered. “Same-sex marriage is officially legal.”

Eddie shot up, his eyes now wide and fixed on Steve. “Courthouse?”

“I guess I’d better find my good suit then, huh?”

-

After a long three-hour wait outside the Courthouse with Robin and Vickie, as well as fifty other couples, Eddie and Steve were finally at the front of the queue.

“Fill these forms out and take them to that window over there,” instructed the clerk, handing Eddie some papers from a large stack in front of him and pointing to the other side of the room.

“You don’t even know why we’re here,” replied Eddie, one eyebrow raised.

The clerk looked up at Eddie, glanced toward Steve, and then back to Eddie. “I’m going to assume you’re here for the same reason as everybody else? Getting hitched?”

“Yeah.”

“Fill these forms out and take them to that window over there,” he repeated. “Next.”

The two couples filled out their paperwork and made their way over to the other window, their identification and fee money in hand. With everything processed and appointments made for an hour later, they wandered out onto the street to find some food to kill the time.

“I’m gonna call Nance and get them down here,” Robin told them after they situated themselves on a bench to eat their food.

“Reckon we should call the lads?” Eddie mumbled through a mouthful of hot dog, promptly spilling mustard on his tie. “Shit.”

Steve grabbed a napkin and wiped it away, shaking his head as he smiled at Eddie. “Probably should, we’ll never hear the end of it if we don’t.”

“Ring Joyce as well, I can’t bear the thought of being told off by her again. I’m not gonna lie, she scares me a little bit.”

“Me too, Eds. Me too,” Steve replied, already dialing her number.

An hour later, in a small room filled with friends and family, Steve and Eddie stood hand in hand before the officiant.

“Steve, do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Eddie, take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“By the authority vested in me under the laws of the State of Indiana, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom.”

“Gladly,” Eddie responded with a glint in his eyes, pulling Steve in close.

March 3rd, 2015.

It had been three weeks since Steve had got the call from the adoption agency confirming that he and Eddie were going to be parents.

He’d got the call at lunchtime and ran straight to the principal’s office, blurting out ‘I’ve gotta go. Now. Can you sort a substitute for the rest of the day?’ before bucking it to his car and racing home to tell Eddie the news.

“Who died?” Eddie asked, panic-stricken at the sight of Steve flinging the front door open so quickly he thought it might come off its hinges.

“No one,” Steve replied, panting slightly.

“What’s got your undies in a bunch then?”

Steve threw his bag on the ground and loosened his tie. "Janelle called.”

“Oh god. The application fell through, didn’t it?” Eddie assumed, running his hands through his hair. “I knew it.”

“Eddie-”

“It’s because I keep going away, isn’t it? Maybe I should cancel next year’s Europe tour?”

“Eddie, look at me,” Steve told him, taking his hands in his. “We’re going to be parents.”

“Shut up, we are not.”

“In three weeks, we get to bring Oscar and Rose home.”

“No we’re not, you’re lying,” Eddie answered, tears welling in his eyes.

A tear rolled down Steve’s cheek. “I promise you, I’m not. We’re gonna be dads.”

They’d begun decorating the two spare rooms along with buying furniture and everything thing else they’d need almost instantly, along with recruiting the help of Nancy and Jonathan who, in Eddie’s opinion, were ‘pros at the whole parenting thing’ after raising three children to be ‘somewhat normal’ people.

After two days of staring at paint samples, they opted for baby pink on the walls in Rose’s room and ocean blue in Oscars. Surprisingly, the painting portion of the preparations was rather unstressful given Eddie’s previous history of dramatics when it came to decorating. After four different colours on the living room wall in two weeks when they’d first moved into their new house, Steve had vowed that he would never paint again. The stress came in twofold when it was time to build the crib.

As the days passed, the two had become increasingly more anxious. If they weren’t bickering about what furniture should go where they were bickering about the usefulness of bottle prep machines and diaper bins.

“I just don’t see why we can’t put them in the normal bin,” Steve reasoned for the third time.

“Are you going to walk all the way downstairs to the kitchen bin after you’ve just changed a shitty diaper, half asleep, at three o’clock in the morning?” Eddie argued.

“Yes.”

“Liar. I still think we should get one.”

“Fine, but you’re building Oscar’s bed by yourself.”

“Gotta be easier than the crib, right?”

“I doubt it,” Steve answered, placing an allen key in Eddie’s hand with a smug grin on his face. “Have fun. I’m off to work.”

With a week to go, Steve called an intervention after finding Eddie repainting the banister at four o’clock in the morning.

“It needed doing,” Eddie defended.

“Eddie, babe, come on,” Steve reasoned.

Jonathan let out a chuckle. “Reminds me of the time I found Nance scrubbing the kitchen floor in the early hours when she was eight months gone with Barb.”

“See!”

“He’s nesting, Steve. It’s normal, trust me,” said Nancy.

Steve raised an eyebrow at her. “You know he’s not pregnant, right?”

“Of course, I do. I know how biology works. That doesn’t mean he can’t nest. It’s just one of those expectant parent things.”

“Cleaning the kitchen is normal, I get that, but Oscar can barely reach the banister and Rose can’t even crawl yet let alone get up the stairs by herself.”

“Just let him have this, Steve,” Jonathan told him, clapping a supportive hand on his shoulder. “And thank god you’re only doing this once.”

“Hey! I was nothing short of delightful during my pregnancies,” Nancy replied.

“Of course, darling.”

The last few days flew by and before they knew it, they were standing on the front porch watching Janelle walk down the garden path with the handle of a car seat in one hand, Rose bundled up inside of it, and Oscar’s hand in the other as he skipped along beside her.

Steve had always thought his love for Eddie knew no bounds and that he’d rather die than lose him again, but at that moment, looking at his three-month-old daughter and his four-year-old son, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he’d use Eddie as a human shield to protect his children if it ever came to it.

5th September 2024.

Steve pushed his reading glasses further up the bridge of his nose, placed his book on the bedside table, and got out of bed.

He should be tired. He knew he should be tired but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t seem to drift off, a promise he’d once made over three decades ago weighing too heavily on his mind.

It had been a very long day.

A suggestion made by Eddie over their morning coffee that a picnic in the park with the entire party would be a great way to both catch up with friends and let all the kids blow off some steam seemed like a good idea at the time. That very same good idea would later turn out to be full-blown chaos.

He loved his family, really he did, but there were only so many times you could hear the words “Dad!” or “Uncle Stevie!” followed by some variation of “They did this!” or “They did that!” without questioning how much of your sanity was still intact at the end of the night.

They’d piled into the park at dinner time. Robin and Vickie were already there, waiting for them with an eager wave. Jonathan and Nancy arrived five minutes later, their children and the newest member of the party, a granddaughter named Joy, in tow. One by one the rest of the party and their small tribes of children and grandchildren arrived, half of which were traipsing behind in typical pre-teen fashion. It would appear that hanging out with your parents and their friends in public isn’t considered “a fun way to spend an afternoon” these days, even if one of them is a world-famous rock star.

It took two hours for all hell to break loose.

“Who’s idea was this again?” Jonathan mumbled, an ice pack from the cooler held against his eyebrow.

“Eddie’s,” grumbled Steve, Lucas, Max, and three of the teenagers.

Eddie peered over the top of his book to address the group. “Come on, guys. We’re having a great time.”

“Are we?”

“The kids are and I suppose that’s what matters, right?” he countered. “Besides, you took that truck to the brow like a champ, Jonathan. You ought to be glad you took that ring out of it.”

Jonathan cringed at the reminder. “It was a phase. We promised not to talk about it again.”

“Phase?” queried Nancy, finishing up tying her umpteenth shoelace of the day.

Barbara raised an eyebrow at her father. “You were twenty-six and you kept it in for ten years.”

“Will, how’s the new house?” he asked quickly, changing the subject.

They sprawled out on the grass for hours until the sun began to set.

The eldest of kids sat away from them, deeply engrossed in an impromptu game of Dungeons and Dragons led by Oz who, much like his father, always had a bag of die handy and could create a campaign on the spot. In between playing with and taking care of the many children that were terrorising the nearby play area, the adults talked and laughed amongst themselves, catching up on all things life and work.

After three tantrums from three different children all within the space of ten minutes, resulting in two bumps to the head and a grazed knee, Erica made the executive decision to disband the group.

It was on the way back to the car, his husband’s hand resting in his and their children strolling beside them, that the promise was brought back to the forefront of Steve’s mind.

“Dad, can I go to Jackson’s tomorrow? He wants to carry on playing D&D,” Oz asked.

“Yeah, sure, but only if it’s okay with Max. I’ll drop you off on my way to Wayne’s,” Steve answered.

“Can I come too, Oscar?” asked Rose.

“I told you not to call me that,” he replied, prompting a chuckle from Eddie.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “Can I come too, Oz?”

“Maybe.”

Eddie unlocked the car and opened the door, still chuckling to himself quietly at his son’s outburst. “So, you’re going to Wayne’s tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied, climbing into the car. “I promised I’d cut the grass for him. You know he can’t do it himself now that he’s getting on.”

Eddie let out a chuckle. “You two and your promises. I swear, you’re over there every other day helping him out with something. You get on better with him than I do.”

“I’m a man of my word. Kids, seatbelts.”

“Is that so? Well, I’m not sure if you remember but a long, long time ago you promised to tell me a story. I’m still waiting.”

Steve pondered for a moment, snippets of memories from the Upside Down flashing through his mind. “I did, didn’t I?”

So that’s why later on that night when Steve couldn’t sleep, his mind heavy and his heart full, he found himself sitting in front of his computer staring at a blank document instead of sitting in his usual spot on the porch. To keep a promise he once made a long, long time ago.

Tell Eddie all about The Bloody-Handed and the anguish of loving them, and how every single second was worth it.

A/N:

Elizabeth Munson, Eddie's mother, is a character from from the book 'Stranger Things: Flight Of Icarus'. We learn about her briefly and about how she passed away.

Ronnie Ecker, Eddie's childhood best friend, is a character from from the book 'Stranger Things: Flight Of Icarus'. She was the original drummer for Corroded Coffin and a member of The Hellfire Club until she graduated in 1984 when she moved to New York to study Law.

★★★★★★★★★★

And with that, we're done.

I've had an absolute blast writing this and as happy as I am that it's finally finished, I can't help but feel a little sad to be closing the book on this story and its characters.

I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who has left likes and reblogged the story. I truly hope that you enjoy the ending as much as I have and that I've done it justice.

Thank you. 🖤

[tillystealeaves]

Steddie Breakup Fic: Communication

Finally, the last part! I had intended to get this posted this weekend but ended up picking up a shift at the Pennsylvania Bat Rehab. Figured that was a fitting excuse...

Start reading from the beginning Read on AO3

“Bobbin, I think I really really fucked up,” Steve said as soon as Robin opened her door to him.

Robin sighed in obvious relief. “You already figured that out on your own?” She was Steve’s best friend, his platonic soulmate. If he needed her to stand by him while he worked through the events of the past day, she would. But not having to explain to Steve that he had just needlessly dumped his not-platonic soulmate would make this conversation go much more smoothly.

“Um, no. I didn’t actually,” Steve confessed. “Dustin explained it to me.”

“Dingus,” Robin groaned, ushering him into her house.

“I just wanted to do right by him, Robin,” Steve explained, his words coming out in a rush. “I want him to be happy and I couldn’t take it if he felt trapped. But I also didn’t want to hear him say it. I’m not the kind of guy people stick around for, I know that, but I don’t-”

“No,” Robin interjected firmly. “This conversation started out much better. You acknowledging that you fucked up last night. That’s true. What is not true is that people- that Eddie- won’t stick around for you. Because if Eddie wouldn’t stick around for you, then you didn’t fuck up, right?”

Steve nodded, taking a steadying breath. “He loves me. Dustin said we love each other like… like lizards with frilly ascots, looking for a fight?”

Robin doubled over, snorting with laughter. “Oh- oh my god, he’s so right! That’s exactly what you are! But not as a display of flirting or anything, just genuinely!” Her words cut off, choked by another peal of laughter.

“Robin, this is serious!” Steve yelped, fighting back a smile. Robin’s joy was infectious- and she wouldn’t be laughing at him if she thought he had truly ruined things with Eddie. “Okay, fine, I’m a lizard! What do I do to make sure that Eddie and I get our lizard happily ever after?”

Robin stopped laughing, stood, and looked at Steve. With all the love and support of a platonic soulmate offering the best advice she could, she suggested, “Sunbathe together on some very warm rocks.”

Steve stared at her blankly for a long moment. “I’m doomed,” he said flatly. Again, Robin burst into laughter. “Okay, but seriously,” he pressed. “Robin I actually need help. I just ruined my relationship with my completely perfect boyfriend, and apparently for no reason.”

“You did,” Robin replied. “Because you’re a dingus and you didn’t talk to him.” She sighed, all traces of humor gone. “Honestly, Steve, just… say you’re sorry. Tell him it was a misunderstanding.”

“I dumped him! Bob, that’s not a misunderstanding; that’s awful! I literally said that we were just going to end up miserable so we should just end it now. He’s never going to talk to me again- and he shouldn’t!”

“Steve!” Robin interjected. “Stop. Of course he is.”

“How do you know?”

“He was here!”

Steve froze, halting his pacing around Robin’s living room. “He was? When? What did he say? Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because you were coming here already. He left less than half an hour ago. He wanted to know why I told you to break up with him. I told him that I definitely did not do that and also that you are a dingus. He figured out the rest.”

“Is he mad?” Steve asked softly, his voice breaking. “God, of course he’s mad. Does he hate me?”

“No,” Robin answered simply. “He loves you. He’s sad. I think he’s probably worried about you.”

“How do I fix this?”

“You go on a date to watch a meteor shower. He’s expecting you. Just get there a little early, yeah?”

Steve wrapped Robin into a tight hug. “Have I told you recently that you’re the best best friend a person could have?”

========================================

The lights were on and Eddie’s constantly-stalling van was in the driveway when Steve pulled up to the Munson’s new trailer. Wayne’s truck was thankfully gone. Over the past months, Steve had been warmly welcomed by Eddie’s uncle. As much as he felt that he deserved to be judged for the mess that he’d created over the past day, he knew that Wayne would be nothing but kind if he found out about it.

Still, he preferred not to have an audience for this conversation with Eddie.

He tried to exude the sort of flirty charm that he knew he excelled at as he knocked on the door, but he knew he was failing hopelessly.

Eddie opened the door with a nervous smile on his face. “Hey, Stevie. Robin said she thought you would come but I wasn’t sure…” He trailed off, looking down at the ground.

Steve had to say something, had to explain to Eddie that of course he would come- he would always be there as long as Eddie wanted him. But he didn’t know how to start; whether to apologize first or launch into a declaration of how much Eddie meant to him or- “Here,” he said abruptly, shoving the bouquet of flowers he’d bought into Eddie’s chest. “I got you these.”

Eddie’s smile was still small, but now it was lit with warmth and fondness. “Thanks. Do you want to come in?”

The moment the door closed behind them, Steve wanted to gather Eddie up into a hug. He knew he couldn’t just do that though. It wasn’t fair to Eddie. None of this had been fair to Eddie.

“Robin said you stopped by her house?”

“Yeah,” Eddie answered. He stared intently at the flowers he was holding, his free hand busy twisting itself in his curls. “I just wanted to know what I did wrong.”

“Nothing. Eds, you absolutely didn’t do anything wrong.”

“She said that. But I obviously didn’t do enough to show you how much you mean to me. You thought- did you really think that I would get tired of you?”

Steve shrugged. “People do. I’m kind of used to not being what people want long-term. And not just as a boyfriend. I’m not what my parents wanted in a son. My friends in high school only liked me as long as I played the part of some guy who wasn’t me.”

“Your parents don’t know what they’re missing out on. But Hop and Mrs. Henderson are both definitely up for the job. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed but Wayne’s had a lot of practice being an unexpected dad, and he’s pretty great at it. You have people, Steve. Lots of people who absolutely want you around long-term.” Eddie took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “Including me.”

Steve marveled at this incredible man before him. Eddie, who said he wasn’t a hero, who worried that he was the sort of person who ran away. Eddie, who looked with understanding and love at the person who had stamped on his heart just the night before and handed his heart over to him again. Now it was Steve’s turn to be brave.

“Can I try again? That whole conversation, can I just redo it?”

“Sure,” Eddie answered. He sat down on the couch, motioning for Steve to join him.

“I love being with you so much. I like you and I like who I am when I’m with you. I know I can be a lot and I know I can be a disappointment, both at the same time. But I don’t think I can handle hearing you say that to me. And I also don’t want you to feel like you can’t say that to me if that’s how you feel. I don’t have career goals or a big plan and I don’t want to hold you back or mess up plans that you have. So I just thought… maybe we should stop this now before I let you down? But I should have said that. So I’m sorry.”

Eddie reached across the few inches of space between them on the couch and put his hand on Steve’s knee. Steve immediately reached out and grabbed hold, Eddie’s fingers a lifeline to a happy ending he thought he may have destroyed. “Yeah,” Eddie began softly, “you should have said that. Because then I would have said that you’re not going to let me down. That my plans involve taking my Finally Achieved high school diploma and getting the hell out of this town, never getting accused of a violent crime again, making music- and that doesn’t mean I have to hit the big time; just make music- and just be happy and make sure the people I love are happy. I’m in love with you, Steve Harrington, and I want to go on a great big lifelong adventure with you.”

There it was. Eddie saw him and Eddie loved him. And Steve loved him back- oh, how he loved him. He knew he loved too much and too hard. But Eddie had made space for Steve’s love. He had honored it as much as he honored Max’s sharp edges and Dustin’s rants about electronics and, now with the Party all back in Hawkins, Will’s passion for illustration. Eddie would never expect Steve to be anyone other than who he was- and he loved him for it.

“Okay,” Steve whispered, choked by the hope and joy blooming in his chest. “Okay, so… can we get back together?”

“How about this?” proposed Eddie. “Last night you gave me a sort of letter of resignation for our relationship. I did not accept. Instead of accepting your resignation, you and I both brought the problem to our Human Resources officer, Robin. After that, you rescinded your proposed resignation.”

“So it just… didn’t happen?”

“Exactly. Me and you, together for five months so far, going strong.”

“And you’re not mad?” Steve’s parents often held his mistakes over his head for weeks, insisting that he had to make up for his shortcomings. But even as he asked, Steve knew that Eddie wouldn’t have those sorts of expectations.

“No, I’m not mad. Gotta say, though, I’m a little scared. Please, Steve, all I ask is that you don’t do this again, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve agreed. He knew that a lifetime of insecurities wouldn’t just evaporate, knew that he would probably worry these exact same things again. But he could definitely promise that he would talk to Eddie about it instead of just assuming he wasn’t wanted. “Getting scolded by Dustin for shutting you out was an experience I’d love to not repeat.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie asked.

Steve laughed as he stood from the couch, pulling Eddie up with him. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, I think we’ve got a meteor shower to catch. Unless-” he faltered. “Do you still want to go?”

Eddie smiled and pulled Steve close, kissing him lightly on his forehead, nose, and finally his lips. “Wouldn’t miss it, Stevie.”

[hotluncheddie]

high masking autistic steve snippet - a follow on from this and this

wc: 2.5k | rated: T | cw: none | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie but again this is about steve), hurt/comfort, established relationship, stimming

ao3

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Steve is spending the evening doing one of his new things. Where he takes time to just be. It’s recovering, or Stevie time, or whatever Eddie and Robin have decided it should be called. 

He’s alone basically, and it’s nice, because he’s letting it be nice. Letting it be restful. 

It’s for when he’s had a meltdown. Or can feel one coming on, because now he’s starting to recognise what overstimulation feels like on his skin. How it prickles at the back of his neck if his breaks cut short, makes his vision vignette if something too unexpected happens. 

Learned that after something like that he’ll need to rest. Needs time. 

And it’s not lazy. It’s not. (Sometimes it still feels like it is.) (Weak…that word always plays in the deep, scathing tone of his father’s voice…and selfish.)  

He’s on the couch, it’s dark, he actually feels really comfortable, and he’s watching The Breakfast Club. Watching it again. It’s his favourite, it feels like his. But he doesn’t like watching it with other people because they might notice how much he likes it and he doesn’t want that. Can’t be seen like that.. Embarrassing. 

So he watches it alone, when he gets home from work. He pauses whenever he wants, rewinds, pauses. Takes a deep breath, rewinds, pauses, stares into space. 

He also pauses to eat the snack he brought in. Actually tasting the food bc it’s the only thing he has to focus on. No lights, no sounds. He forgot how much he likes oranges when they’re ripe. Harder to taste if he has to listen at the same time. So, on a day like today, he lets himself do stuff one step at a time. 

It’ll probably take him double the normal run time to get all the way to the end. But who cares? It’s his time. 

The weird girl’s parents driving off; that feels like him. The jock’s Dad letting him off easy; that doesn’t feel like him. ‘No schools gonna give a scholarship to a discipline case.’ Maybe that does feel like him. Before through. A long time ago now. 

He claps sometimes. Keening high in his throat, a little happy hum that he only lets himself do when he’s alone like this. He does it after he whistles the same tune they do. And during the scene of them running around the corridors. It’s exiting. Makes his lips stretch wide and his feet flap around. He claps. Once. Twice. It feels good. 

He laughs at the characters. How they merge together with bits of his friends. He feels that swell of happy sad emotion looking at the jock when he first comes in, acting above the others, only seeing Molly Ringwald. He lives through a couple flashbacks of himself. Resigns to actually watch them, sit in them, begins to process who he was. Who he’s becoming now. Something like forgiveness tasting sweet on his tongue. He cries a little; that swelling and shifting as buried emotion finally passes. It overcomes him sometimes when he lets his mind relax.. He rewinds, and he laughs. 

“Stevie?”

Steve starts, fingers tangle in the blanket in his lap. Brain slow to process the change, the information. Eddie slipping through the door and coming over to him. Eddie dipping to look at Steve’s face, trying to catch Steve’s eye. Eddie smelling like cigarettes and crisp autumn air, it’s nice, but, it’s a lot. Panic sits bubbling somewhere in him. He wasn’t expecting this. 

“…Eddie?”

“Hey sweetheart. I know you had a shitty day, but Wayne’s at home with a headache and he needs to sleep it off. Wouldn’t’ve been able to stay quiet enough for him.”

Steve breaths in and out a little quickly. Eyes wide. 

Maybe it’s okay. Eddie knows he had a bad day. Maybe it’s okay.

“I’ll sit in the kitchen, work on my campaign, just forget I’m here.” Eddie speaks quietly, almost a whisper. 

He stares at his hand in his lap. “..You won’t, listen?” Steve feels small. Knows he’s not, his frame broad and strong. But, he needs small. Wants his world small tonight, slow. Wants to stay hidden. Him and the couch and the film and nothing else. 

Eddie just shakes his walkman and smiles (in that pointy way that makes Steve’s toes curl). 

“Kay” Steve whispers, still wary, off kilter. But accepts the kiss Eddie drops on his head, tangling their fingers together for a breath. Steve leans forward for a kiss on the lips. It’s deep, and lovely. Steve can smell Eddie’s cologne. Feels where the chill bit at Eddie’s nose. He shivers.

“No cooking.” Steve mumbles while their lips are still close. Small smile pulling at his face, eyes sharp, waiting for Eddie to get it. 

Eddie groans quietly in embarrassment but his eyes are soft and molten and Steve’s toes curl up again. “Course not baby, not again. Once you’re hungry just come through, yeah? Make us something nice.”

And the light of the kitchen doesn’t reach the couch. And Eddie listens to his walkman loud. And Steve’s safe. It’s Eddie. He’s not listening. Steve’s safe. 

His favourite scene; Bender and Claire in the stock cupboard. The way he looks so shocked, the way she bites her lip. ‘Why’d you do that?’ ‘Because I knew you wouldn’t.’ Steve whispers as they do. Claps. It’s such a good scene. He’s exited. He claps again. Rewinds to just watch her face. Rewinds to just watch his. Rewinds and watches the whole scene again. Wraps his arms around his middle and squeezes. Pauses on the kiss. He rubs his fingers agains his mouth. Giddy excitement bubbles in his belly. He hums high and happy again. He loves this movie. 

The weird girl gets a makeover, the jock really likes it. He feels like the weird girl sometimes, maybe Eddie can be his jock. Maybe he should get a makeover. Maybe keep growing out his hair. Maybe Eddie would like that. 

The credits roll. Bender’s fist in the air. Steve drifts on the couch, eyes closed. He breaths deep, his stomach growls. 

He pads through to Eddie. Squinting. Too bright. “D’you mind?” He motions to the lights, his eyes too adjusted to the dark and he doesn’t even wanna try and adjust them back. 

‘‘Cause. What we making?” 

Steve hums, goes into the pantry to see what’s easy. Eddie slips in behind him, hand on his waist. “Pasta?” Steve asks but Eddie doesn’t reply, just turns him gently. Nudging him to step back into the corner. 

Eddie looks at him, dips forward to place a slow kiss on his neck. “Why’d you do tha..’ Steve’s words dry up in his throat. 

“Because I knew you wouldn’t” and Eddie’s eyes are sparking with glee.

Eddie heard him.

He listened.

Steve’s feels himself flush hot, embarrassed and ashamed. “Ah, I, uh.” He can’t explain it, why he had to watch it so many times, why it makes him so exited. He crosses his arms over his chest. Turns back to the shelves of food and picks a can at random. Shoving out of the room. 

“Steve?”

Eddie said he wouldn’t. He listened in on him. He said he wouldn’t. He’s making fun of him. Steve knew he should’ve told Eddie to go home. 

“Stevie? What’s wrong?” But Steve doesn’t want to talk to him. He’s so angry, So ashamed, of himself. What if Eddie heard him clap too, heard him make that high noise, like a fucking baby, like some freak. 

He puts the can on the counter with way too much force, corn, not what he fucking wanted. His hands are shaking. He stares at them, wills his tears to stay behind his lash line. He got too comfortable, he can’t do that. Why is it so hard to pretend now, when it used to be so easy. 

“Steve, tell me what I did, please.” 

“‘M fine” Steve’s insides feel too big, pushing against his skin, itchy all over. He squeezes himself around his middle again, digging his fingers in hard. 

“Don’t do that, you know I hate when you bullshit like that.” Half lovely, half scathing.

The word stinks, a stab to the gut. But Steve gets it, he does, they talked about it. He bites his lip, hard. 

Its old habits or whatever. Because Steve, he loved fine. Liked sinking his teeth into it; toxic waste green coating his mouth and lungs. Thick and delicious. Because fine gets you out of it. Fine gives you translucency. Controlled balance. Everything appearing a none issue, the perfect in-between. Steve was perfect at coming off as something to not worry about, someone to be ignored. It used to work in all situations; can’t get told off if you’re fine, cant do anything wrong, teachers didn’t look twice, his parents wouldn't shout. By staying half alive, never letting anyone too close, never filling your lungs up all the way. That was the fine Steve adored. 

“You were literally just watching a movie. I dunno what the big deal is.” and there’s frustration, confusion, in Eddie, Steve thinks. He feels himself tense up, glance over.

Eddie must see something on his face. See that scared little animal prowling around within him. Because Eddie softens, his voice gentle. “Steve.. it’s nothing I hadn’t heard before.’ And Steve’s teeth clamp together with a click. He’s done that, his clap and his high hum, in front of Eddie before? Steve tries to swallow, he can’t, a lump too big and sticky in his throat.

He can’t look him in the face, angry tears still threatening to spill “You said you wouldn’t listen.” He’s mumbling. He sounds even more like a kid. Stupid. Grow up.

“I heard a little but I was just flipping the tape over, I wasn’t trying to snoop on you Stevie… You just, you sounded happy.” 

Steve huffs. Glances at Eddie. That soft underbelly of his whining, because with Eddie, Steve yearns. Yearns for close. Yearns to be seen, and understood.

“You didn’t mean to?” 

“No, it was just when I was turning the tape.” 

Steve forces a deep breath. 

“You think I’m weird. You hate me.” He whispers it like it’s true. A big part of him believes it, his tears welling up. Feels rejected. Knows that feeling too well. Hates it. 

“Always like you Steve. Always.”

Steve grunts, a tear slips out, rolls down his cheek.

“‘M embarrassed” comes out like an ugly sob. Steve scrubs his palms on his cheeks, feeling how red hot they are. Glaring at the countertop. “I’m embarrassed!” But it’s just Eddie. It was just Eddie.

Eddie comes over, slowly draping himself over Steve’s back. “Nothin' to be embarrassed about, love.” And Eddie leaves soft kisses on Steve’s neck, squeezes his waist. “You looked cute on the couch like that. Like it when you’re happy.” Steve tries taking another deep breath but it shudders. 

Embarrassed, angry, sad. Embarrassed, confused, angry. Frustrated, embarrassed. Tired. 

Emotions wash over him. He’s learning to try and just feel them, name them, pick them apart. Some bubble back up to the surface, some only needed to be seen once. 

Steve turns to bury his face in Eddie’s neck. He sighs, rubs his face into Eddie’s warm skin. shaking his head, likes how his lips feel moving against edie’s soft parts. 

Tired, hungry, embarrassed, hungry. 

“’M tired. I dunno what to eat.” He whispers, and then because he said it it’s like there’s space in his brain. “Want pasta.” 

“Pasta it is then. And then we can sleep, yeah?” Eddie rocks them gently side to side, kisses the side of his head and slips away. Goes to get the box from the pantry, puts the corn back. Steve gets a pot out of the cupboard. 

Staring into the water, the tips of his fingers prickle. Steve fizzes with energy and emotion. All pent up and annoying him. Needs it out. He clicks the flame on.  

He starts pacing around the kitchen island. In big striding, stomping steps. “Ugh! You think I’m weird. Some weird guy who acts weird and does weird shit.” Steve grumbles. Annoyed. He smacks his palm quick and hard against the counter top. Keeps stomping. 

Eddie comes back and starts following. Stomping and prancing like some court jester. “I like that you’re weird! You know, I have one episode of the Twilight Zone taped. It’s my third one. I watched the other two so much the tapes broke.’ Steve lets a little shout slip from him “Ha!” bubbly and forceful. Dislodging something within him. Like when a tooth finally falls out. 

Feels good. 

“I only like one brand of spaghetti hoops. Wayne once bought me a multipack for Christmas. Best fucking gift I ever got.” and Steve’s laughing now. Giggling and manic and still stomping around the island.

“I like how it feels to brush my teeth. I’ve never had a filling. I fucking love brushing my teeth, Eddie.” and that makes Eddie laugh now too. Two freaks stomping around the kitchen. A king and his jester, lit up by moonlight. 

Steve turns the corner and stops short, still giggling. Eddies bent at one knee, presenting the box of pasta to him. “My liege.” 

Steve claps, hums, high and keening. The waters boiling. 

-

“How’d you feel now?’ Eddie asks around a mouthful of cheesy pasta. 

Steve curls up tighter into the corner of couch, wraps both hands around the warm bowl. Glances at Eddie across from him. “Still kinda embarrassed.”

Eddie looks so soft, so kind, across from him. “I’m embarrassed too, to be honest. You love that movie, I thought you’d like me doing that. Kinda like when we, when we kissed upside-down, like I was Spider-man” Eddies sentence get quieter towards the end, mumbly, spoked into his bowl, cheeks dusted pink.

Steve strains to hear him. Smiles once he puts the words together. 

He shovels pasta in his mouth. Eyes closed. “You are so annoying Eddie Munson. Why’d you even come here tonight, you coulda gone anywhere.” Steve sinks further into the couch, it’s really good pasta.

“Missed you.” Eddie says it like it’s simple, easy, and warmth drips over Steve’s skin. 

Eddie clears his throat, Steve feels him fidget. “Wanna maybe.. You think we could live together one day? Want you to be able to do whatever you want with me around Steve. Breakfast Club on all the time at our place, kay?” And Steve’s throat constricts, that’s a big change, living with someone, moving out. But maybe with Eddie it could be okay, if they did it together, slow. 

“Yeah, kay. One day.” Softly, bit by bit. Little bits. Steve can get there. Let Eddie in, let Eddie see. “But no to Breakfast Club on all the time.” Because some times, some days, some things, are just for him. Steve needs it that way. And that’s okay. 

He stretches out further on the couch, feeling syrupy and nice, easy smile playing at his lips. “I like it when you kiss my neck though, you can do that again.” And that makes Eddie grin all pointy, put their bowls to the side and crawl over him. 

Steve’s toes curl and he hums, high and happy. 

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tagging those who asked mwah! @2jug2head @lil-gremlin-things

but also people who i think might be interested (sorry if ur not lmk and i won't again) @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @steventhusiast @sugarcookiesteve @spectrum-spectre @irethsune