Diagnosed with Hanahaki, a genetic autoimmune disease, as a child, Steve has learned to live with it. Along the way, he finds a family and falls in love with Eddie. He is never cured, but he lives. - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Parte 6 | Some thoughts on this
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Steve and Eddie were high school boyfriends. Years later, when Eddie is famous and a fan decides to make a mini-documentary about the origins of CC, everyone finds out who was the guy who inspired part of the first album, the first song to become a hit and how all of this affected his life.
(Based on another fic, which is linked in the post.) - Part 1 | Some thoughts on this
I saw a video of an Australian woman talking about the importance of smell in Brazil, about how people get out of the shower and hear "you smell good," about how one of the ways to greet someone is to say "let me smell you," and then the person does it (or gets closer as if they were going to smell, but they don't).
To be quite frank, I think the thing about actually smelling another person and not just saying it isn't that common. It's more of a reunion thing after a long time, or a form of affection between lovers, between parents and children, but talking about smelling? That's super common.
This made me think that we have a kind of a/b/o dynamic.
TFW in a crappy motel room getting ready to head out to work on a case, the usual.
Dean is putting on his FBI getup in the bathroom when he realises he must have forgotten to pack a tie.
He slams open the bathroom door (Sam jumps, Cas doesn't even blink) and he's stalking around the motel room annoyed at himself, wondering aloud if he's got time to go out and buy a new one, trying to convince Sam to give him his tie instead.....
Cas sighs, strides over to Dean in a few sure steps, pulls loose his own tie, and reaches over to hang it around Dean's neck (who freezes and shuts up instantly). Cas's brows are furrowed, his blue eyes laser focused onto his task, lips pressed tight together... and he does a terrible job at tying the knot.
Cas leans back when he's done, but he's still standing so close the tips of their shoes are almost touching.
Dean wants to say something about personal space, but instead he gazes down at the tie, knotted crookedly at the base of his throat, and runs his fingers down the silky length.
He looks back up to see Cas watching him.
Cas without his tie.
The tie around his own neck right now. The tie he's still touching.
Dustin rightly gets most of the fics and HCs as Steddie’s shared kid but I think Lucas is underrated. He’s their little half jock half nerd blend and they LOVE him
I have about 11 moles on my face and I never cared about them, or all the others scattered across my body, until I started liking Steve's moles. I think if I fell in love, I'd be waiting for the person to notice how many are around my eyes.
There's one thing all of Steve's partners should probably be aware of and that is that his top priorities are a bunch of children who aren't related to him and a girl who never stops talking and gets a little too close to him for comfort but they both swear up and down that they're completly platonic and the idea of them being any kind of romantic together is gross.
It makes dating difficult because he'll have to radomly cancel on plans sometimes and there are only so many times someone will understand 'Max fell of her skateboard again I have to take her to the ER' or 'I'm so sorry but I promised Lucas I'd help him practice his shot tonight' or 'Robin went and left her keys in my car again and now she's locked out, do you mind if I'm just a little late?'. It always stops being sweet eventually, but Steve doesn't mind because if someone can't get on board with his family committments then they're not the right person for him.
Robin insists it's because he dates all these really uptight people who see him as a status symbol. And he needs to find someone more laid back chaotic to compliment the chaos in his life. After his latest date falls through because one of his friend decided to 1 v 1 Lucas in basket ball and dislocated his little finger (Mike, goaded into it by Max), he tells Robin he gives up and allows her to set him up with her friend.
He's surprised at first when Eddie "the freak" Munson steps into the diner, mostly because he didn't know Robin knew the guy. Once they settle into it though, Steve realises he's having fun, more fun than he usually has on dates. And it definitely helps that Eddie is just Steve's type with his wavy brown hair and big doe eyes.
The banter between them is flowing well when Steve catches sight of the date in the corner of the screen of a TV on the wall.
"Oh shit," He says, his heart sinking because he actually likes Eddie.
Eddie notices Steve's expression falling and touches his arm gently. "What's wrong?"
Steve lets out a loud sigh. "I just remembered I promised Dustin I'd go to his debate team thing tonight. He's been practicing for ages, I'm going to have to go."
Eddie gives him a small smile. "Ah yes, the single mom duties Buckley warned me about."
"Yeah," Steve sighs. "There's always something, but I love them. They're like family, you know?"
Eddie nods. "Yeah, I know."
Steve prepares for rejection. "I can drive you home on the way?"
"Drive me home?" Eddie questions, confused. "And miss Steve Harrington doing his best impression of a single mom? No chance, I'm coming with you."
While Steve is reeling over that, he adds. "Besides, I gotta meet the future step children and embarrass them publically at some point. It's an important right of passage."
Steve is ready to propose right there, luckily Eddie breaks him out of it by handing him their food to go.
A few hours later they're almost thrown out of the event for yelling things like, "Yeah, tell him Henderson!" Every time he catches his opponent off guard.
While Dustin rolls his eyes at them fondly, Steve looks over at Eddie, sees the delight and mischief in his eyes and thinks, 'Yeah, this one's here to stay.'
Dustin's not panicking, but he's also not not panicking. Steve just looks so small and hurt, laying there motionless in the hospital bed. One of his eyes is swollen shut, his lip is split and bleeding, there's bruises on his neck like someone tried to strangle him, and his wrist is broken, badly enough that he might need surgery. That's not even the worst of it. The doctor told them that Steve has to stay overnight for observation, in case there's internal bleeding. Because Steve was so badly beaten that it's something they need to watch for.
“It was Billy, wasn't it,” Max says next to him. The hospital wouldn't allow them all to crowd into Steve's room together, so it's just him and Max here while Lucas and Mike are down in the lobby. Will already got picked up by Jonathon.
“We don't know that,” Dustin argues. “It could've been anyone.”
“Billy hates him,” Max says softly. He looks over, but she's staring at Steve. “He did this.”
She's probably right, but Dustin doesn't want to admit it. There's no proof. They need to gather the facts, look for evidence, and make a logical conclusion.
Steve shifts and mumbles something, eyes still closed. Dustin darts over to his side.
“Steve?”
“Eddie,” Steve mumbles.
Eddie? Who the hell is Eddie? He exchanges a glance with Max, who looks just as confused as he is.
“Is that who hurt you? Steve, c’mon. Talk to me.”
But Steve's out again, sighing in his sleep, face going slack.
“Do you know any Eddies?” he asks Max.
She shakes her head. “Sorry.”
That's okay. They can get the phone book, write down the name of every Eddie in Hawkins, eliminate unlikely suspects and go from there. It's not much, but it's a start.
The door opens and a nurse walks in, followed by a man Dustin’s never seen before. He's old and mostly bald, with a salt and pepper beard, dressed in worn-out jeans and a flannel shirt open over a white tee. Probably not a secret government agent. Definitely not Steve's dad.
“Who are you?” Dustin says, rudely cutting off the nurse.
The man raises an eyebrow.
“I'm Steve's emergency contact,” he says. “Who are you?”
“I'm his friend.” Dustin’s not going to be cowed by this stranger.
“I see,” says the man, and reaches his hand out. “Wayne Munson.”
Dustin shakes it. “Dustin Henderson,” he says, because he can hardly withhold his name after the stranger shared his.
Wayne nods politely and turns back to the nurse and gestures at her to resume her spiel. Dustin’s heard all this before, so he tunes her out and huddles with Max in the corner.
“There is something seriously weird going on here,” he says. “Is Steve living some kind of double life?”
Max rolls her eyes at him. “Not everything's a conspiracy. That's probably just his uncle or something. Didn't you say his parents are never around?”
“I don't think Steve has any uncles,” he says doubtfully.
His attention snaps back to Steve, who’s moving fitfully around while the nurse checks his vitals. His good eye slowly opens and fixes on Wayne.
“Eddie?” he asks. His voice is rough and strained, like it hurts him to talk.
“Wasn't home when I got the call,” Wayne tells him. “I had to leave him a note.”
Steve nods and closes his eyes again. It's worrying that he can't seem to stay awake for more than a minute at a time. He thought you were supposed to keep people awake if they had concussions.
And okay, so maybe this Eddie isn't a suspect. How does Steve know all these people that Dustin's never heard of?
The nurse leaves and Wayne settles into the chair by Steve's bed, like he intends to stay for a while.
“So,” Dustin starts. He's going to get to the bottom of this. “Why are you Steve's emergency contact?”
“He asked me,” Wayne says, like that answers anything. He's good under interrogation, Dustin will give him that.
“Okay, but how do you know him?” There's no way this guy is Steve's uncle.
“If he wanted you to know, he would've told you.”
That stings. Steve is his friend, even if he is older than Dustin. He's gonna chew Steve out for keeping all these secrets, once he gets better. Dustin beats a strategic retreat to the other side of Steve's bed, dropping into a chair by the window.
Max only stays a few more minutes and then she has to leave to get home for dinner.
“I'll send Mike up,” she says on her way out.
So it's Mike that Dustin’s expecting to see, but it's another stranger who bursts into the room a few minutes later. He looks like he's about Steve's age, with wild curly hair, ripped jeans and a definite air of panic.
“Holy shit,” he says when he spots Steve. “I got your note. What the hell happened?”
This must be Eddie. Wayne's already standing up to let him take his chair.
“I don't know any more than you do,” Wayne says. “Hospital called me up, said he was in a bad way and I should come down.”
“Jesus, he looks beat to hell,” Eddie says, pale-faced. “Is he…is he gonna be okay?”
Wayne rests a hand on Eddie's shoulder and squeezes. “Should be. They're keepin’ him overnight, to be sure. He's got a concussion and a broken wrist.”
“Shit,” Eddie says again, and brings a hand up to wipe at his eyes. Who is this guy? He's acting like he's Steve's best friend and Dustin's never even heard of him until now.
“He was askin’ for you,” Wayne says, and Eddie's head snaps back up. “Why don't you try talkin’ to him?”
“Okay,” Eddie sniffles. “Um. Steve? It's me, Eddie. I'm sorry I couldn't get here faster, I—”
Steve's blinking awake already.
“Eddie,” he says. Is that all he knows how to say now?
“Yeah, it's me,” Eddie says, and takes Steve's hand in his. “How do you feel, baby?”
Baby.
“Hurts,” Steve says, and to Dustin's horror he starts to cry. He didn't think Steve knew how to cry, but he's holding Eddie‘s hand and tears are rolling down his cheeks and Dustin might as well not be there, the way Steve's completely focused on Eddie.
Eddie, who can only be Steve's boyfriend. Eddie, who seems to have abruptly remembered that Dustin’s there—he's looking over at Dustin with wide, scared eyes, but he doesn't let go of Steve's hand, and Dustin likes him more for it. Eddie turns his attention back to Steve almost immediately.
“I know, I'm sorry,” he tells Steve. He reaches out and carefully pushes Steve's hair out of his face. “I'll fucking kill whoever did this to you.”
Dustin's on board with that, but Steve gets agitated.
“No,” he says loudly. It sets him off coughing and it must hurt like hell, by the way his face goes drawn and pale. Eddie's quick to grab a cup of water off the side table and hold it up so Steve can take a sip.
“Promise me,” Steve demands as soon as he can talk again. “Don't…go looking.”
“Okay,” Eddie says, clearly put out about it. “I promise.”
“Staying?” Steve asks. He's running out of steam, sagging back against his pillows.
“Of course,” Eddie says, so tenderly that Dustin has to look away. “I'll be right here when you wake up.”
Steve Harrington was trying to be a better person, but one night in late August, despite his best efforts, he had a truly selfish thought. He wished Robin wasn't dating Vickie. He hated himself for even entertaining the idea. Robin deserved to be with someone who loved her. She was amazing. She was smart, funny, and a little bit of a weirdo– which Steve had learnt was his type.
He wasn't jealous of Vickie. Not in the way you'd think. He was over being in love with Robin, but he missed having his best friend around. For so long, he and Robin had been joined at the hip. Now Robin had Vickie, which meant he saw less and less of her.
Whenever he tried to strike up a conversation with Nancy, she'd look at him like he'd sprouted a third head. Maybe she thought he was flirting, which wasn't ideal. Talking to Jonathan was a nonstarter because he thought Steve was still trying to get together with Nancy.
Then there was Dustin. Before, when he'd had no one else, he'd had Dustin to talk to. Was it depressing that one of his best friends was several years his junior? Yes, but Steve would take what he could get. The problem was that Dustin had changed since Eddie's death. Most days, he wouldn't look at Steve, let alone talk to him. Which meant, once again, Steve Harrington was alone.
When the silence of his empty house grew too loud, Steve would drive around town. The quarantine zone was one of the many prisons his life held. In years past, he could've hit the road until he reached Indianapolis, but now he looped around the town's perimeter until his fuel light blinked or the night faded into morning.
He was so damn lonely. There was also the matter of going crazy.
Steve was hearing voices on the radio. More specifically, one voice on the radio, Eddie Munson's. The first time it happened, he and Dustin had been in the WSQK van, on a crawl, slowly following Hopper's trail in the Upside Down, topside. Amongst Hopper's garbled voice and static, another sound rose from the din.
"Hello? Anyone?" The voice– Eddie's voice, sounded hoarse, as though he'd been calling out for some time.
Naturally, Steve looked to Henderson, expecting to see the kid as frantic as he felt, but he wore his usual bored and despondent look as he mindlessly turned the knobs and dials.
"Henderson, you hear that?"
This was it. The moment Steve finally lost his mind. With all the shit he'd seen, he supposed it was about time.
"Hopper trying to get through on the walkie? Yes, Steve. I do, and I'd be able to pick up the signal better if you'd speed up a little."
"Yeah, but what about...?" Steve let his thought fade. He was tired. He hadn't been sleeping well. He was dreaming with his eyes open.
Only Steve kept hearing the voice. Not just on their crawls but on his late-night drives in the Beamer. The Squawk went off air after ten, which meant the station played nothing but static, and through that static, Steve started hearing Eddie. That night in August, Steve went crazy enough to start answering.
"Hello?" Eddie's voice croaked through the static. He sounded as tired as Steve felt.
"Anyone? Ground control to Major Tom? This is E.T. phoning home." Despite everything, Eddie could still joke.
Steve liked to think that, in another life, they could have been friends. Maybe that was why his sleep-addled brain had conjured up Eddie's voice from the ether.
"Hey... uh, Major Tom to ground control?" Steve spoke to the air as he took a tight turn down the end of a quiet neighbourhood.
In another life, Steve would like to live in a comfortably quiet home. His house screamed with the silence of abandonment, instead of sleeping with tranquillity. There was a difference between quiet and silence, not many people knew.
For a moment, there was nothing but static, but then it was shattered by what sounded like the gasp of a wounded animal.
Steve had to jerk the wheel as he felt himself driving dangerously close to the curb. He pulled over, but left the car running.
"Live and in stereo. Jesus H. You don't know how happy I am to hear your voice."
Steve might be feeding his own delusions, but god, it felt good to be wanted, just once.
"I could say the same about you. Where are you?"
"I'm stuck in the damn Upside Down, man. Have been for... I don't know how long. I've been running around this goddamn hellscape, hiding from the demogorgons for... I don't know."
Steve leaned back against the headrest and let his eyes fall shut, trying to focus.
"Sixteen months, give or take," Steve breathed. God, he'd been gone so long. This couldn't be real. Eddie had died. Steve had watched him die.
"No... no that can't be right. It can't. It hasn't..." Eddie's voice trailed off, appearing confused.
"I'm sorry... Eddie– Eds, you died." Steve had hoped his sick mind would send him a friend, but instead it sent him a therapy session.
"I tried to save you, man. By the time I got there... there was so much blood–." Steve was glad he'd parked, because he could feel his hands begin to shake.
Watching someone die never leaves you. Steve could close his eyes, and he was back there. Part of him would always be there. He'd heard Dustin's wails of anguish before he'd seen the grusome scene. He knew something had gone terribly wrong.
He'd run until he felt as though his lungs would explode. He'd been so focused on Dustin at first, he hadn't noticed Eddie. He'd taken the boy's bloody face between his hands and tried to examine every inch of him to determine where the blood was coming from. Dustin pushed him away, sobbing Eddie's name. Eddie had been so still that Steve had thought he was already gone. However, he placed the back of his hand inches from Eddie's lips and felt small puffs of air.
The flesh at his sides had been torn beyond recognition, resembling minced meat, instead of flesh and bone. Steve had done his best to pack the wound. He'd been wrist deep inside Eddie's skin. He'd never forget the warm flow of blood around his fingers as he tried to feed Eddie's intestines back inside his body. He'd never un-hear the wet squelch of flesh on flesh. He'd tried his best to save Eddie. Logically, he knew that. But he never felt like he'd done enough.
He remembered struggling to hold Eddie in his arms, as they made for the gate out of The Upside Down. All the blood made him slippery. Steve had toppled over, desperately trying to cling to Eddie rather than letting him go. He'd skinned his knees, his hands and his chin. It'd taken Steve four tries to hoist Eddie up through the hole in the trailer roof, with Dustin hot on his heels.
By the time Eddie's body was in Hawkins, his eyes were glassy, and he'd stopped breathing. Even then, Steve had tried. He scraped together all the knowledge he'd gathered from his first job as a lifeguard during his sophomore year and beat down on Eddie's chest until his wrist ached and he was covered in sweat. Nothing brought him back, but god, he'd tried.
"I died," Eddie echoed at last. Steve thought he heard a hint of disbelief in his tone.
"But I'm... here," Eddie sounded as lost as Steve felt.
"I'm sorry," Steve breathed. Unsure what else he was supposed to say.
"Oh shit," Eddie's voice crackled through the static, sounding suddenly distant.
"Creepy demodogs are hot on my six, Steve. I've gotta move. Find me again. I don't know how you did it but–." The radio static swallowed Eddie's voice whole.
Once again, Steve was alone.
After being directionless for so long, Steve threw himself headlong into finding and contacting Eddie. Any spare moment was spent combing every inch of Hawkins, with the radio tuned to static if he was driving or his walkie-talkie fixed to his and Eddie's private channel if he was on foot.
He wasn't sure if he was going crazy, but the alternative was worse. If he wasn't crazy, that meant part of Eddie had survived, only to be trapped in an evil wizard's hell dimension. Steve Harrington wasn't in the business of leaving his people behind. He had to bring Eddie home.
In the weeks that followed, he and Eddie had come closer to understanding how to contact each other. Much like Hopper's walkie and the Squawk van, Eddie and Steve needed to be close to one another to talk. At first, that seemed to make matters simple. If Eddie camped out at Steve's house in The Upside Down and Steve turned on his walkie, they could talk for hours on end, which they did. However, the Upside Down was still crawling with demogorgons, meaning it wasn't safe to stay in one place too long, lest Eddie get cornered. Neither boy wanted to know what would happen if he died twice.
They organised nightly meet-ups across Hawkins, trying to keep Eddie on the move. All the while, Steve was trying to work out how to get back into the Upside Down to get Eddie out without the military or the other members of the party realising. He hadn't intended to keep Eddie's possible return from the dead from the others, but everything felt so complicated. There were too many variables, too many things to go wrong. Losing Eddie once had broken Dustin in ways Steve feared he would never mend from. He didn't dare think what would happen if they couldn't save Eddie a second time. To Steve's surprise, Eddie agreed. Neither boy would admit it, but they both knew how unlikely it was that they'd be able to get Eddie out.
"Where should we swing by tomorrow? I was thinking maybe we could hang out at Enzo's parking lot," Eddie's voice rose from the static.
It was mid-September, and the boys had grown close in such a short time. Steve had been surprised at how easy they had bonded in the days after Eddie was accused of murder. Eddie knew what he was going to say before Steve did, particularly regarding Dustin, and, much to Steve's surprise, he could read Eddie's moods without the man saying a word. It was a bond he'd shared with Robin, but that had taken months of working a minimum wage job together, coupled with being drugged and tortured, not to mention Robin coming out to him.
He and Eddie didn't have as much shared history. They hardly talked in high school. Steve didn't know how to explain it. He felt like a part of him had always known Eddie. Even when they had been strangers, Eddie had caught Steve's eye at his parties and across the cafeteria. His long hair, denim vest and ringed fingers always managed to snag Steve's attention, like a hangnail in a knitted sweater.
He thought, for a moment, of Robin's bathroom confession, how much she'd noticed about him, because of her crush on Tammy Thompson. Steve had always noticed Eddie, but not because he was popular with any of the girls he'd half-heartedly dated. Steve had spent a long time trying to unpack what all that meant for him.
After Eddie's death, he'd never admit how much he mourned what could have been. He felt like they were getting a second chance, and he wasn't about to let it go to waste. If it were anyone else, Steve would've worried he'd come on too strong, as was his habit, but to his surprise, for each part of himself he overshared, Eddie did so in kind.
Steve supposed it was bound to happen. Eddie had been alone for months. He needed someone. Steve had been lonely for... years, really. They both needed one another.
It was one of the lucky nights, they'd been able to meet at his home. His late nights and early mornings hunting for Eddie meant his sleep schedule was nonexistent, so getting to curl up in his bed with the walkie by his head as he talked to Eddie felt like a small luxury. He wondered if Eddie was in the same place in the Upside Down, curled up on top of the covers, in Steve's bed. The thought made him shiver. He was trying not to dwell on all the feelings Eddie spurred in him. It was too complex.
"You want to take me to Enzo's?" Steve mused, propping his arm behind his head.
"I figured you're a class act, Harrington. If we're going to meet in a parking lot under the cover of darkness, it might as well be one worthy of your standing," Eddie replied, making Steve roll his eyes.
"I've got another idea," Steve began.
"This morning, I drove close enough to the military base to pick up on their internal radio chatter. Turns out, they're doing a burn tomorrow night at the break near Forest Hills. The rest of the gang hasn't picked up on it yet. Thought we could try meeting up in your neck of the woods," Steve proposed.
"By my neck of the woods, you mean The Upside Down? Don't you think it's a little dangerous sneaking past the military on your own?" Eddie was hesitant, but he wasn't saying no.
"It's only dangerous if you get caught, and I know how to be sneaky," Steve argued and heard a faint snicker.
"Just because you say you'd make a good ninja dude, doesn't mean I believe you."
"I'm not hearing a no," Steve challenged.
"That's because, as dumb as your idea sounds... I really want to see someone that's not shaped like a hell-bat or a fly trap. You're playing on my weakness, Stevie," Eddie spoke. Steve felt a smile creep over his lips.
"So it's settled, I'll meet you there tomorrow night. If everything goes well, I might be able to get you topside by breakfast."
Steve knew he was being optimistic. When he had outlined the areas the military frequently burned to Eddie, the boy had tried to sneak past them and cross the barrier to Hawkins, but so far, he hadn't been successful. Something was keeping Eddie tethered there. They were entertaining a handful of theories, with no real evidence to support them.
"Okay, Stevie. Just be careful. If it's too dangerous, turn back. Don't play the hero," Eddie said, and it hurt to have his own words echoed back at him.
"I thought that was my job," Steve mumbled.
"No. Not today it's not. No more heroes," Eddie insisted.
"No more heroes," Steve echoed, gazing up at the ceiling, imagining Eddie beside him, doing the same.
"If we get you out of there, I'll actually take you to Enzo's... if you want," Steve whispered.
For a moment, he'd felt brave, but the second the words left his lips, he was terrified. Maybe he'd read Eddie all wrong.
He heard Eddie laugh. Which hurt more than it should.
"You know that's a date place, right? I know you're rich and all, but I couldn't imagine you and Tommy H swinging by for a candle-lit dinner after a basketball game."
"I know it's a date place," Steve tried again.
"That's why I asked you."
The silence that followed seemed to stretch out for a lifetime before Eddie uttered a quiet 'oh'.
"Yeah... Stevie. If everything goes as planned, I'll go to Enzo's with you."
Getting away from the radio station on time to meet Eddie was harder than Steve anticipated. He was halfway out the door when Robin called his name and jogged to catch up with him.
"Dingus. Vickie just called, and she's picking up a double shift at the hospital. Which means my Friday night is officially free. Want to have a movie night? Last week, Murray smuggled us some new tapes I've been dying to watch."
On any other night, Steve would've jumped at the opportunity to spend time with Robin, but not tonight. The only problem was, he hadn't had time to come up with a convincing lie.
"Ah, you see, I'd love to, but I've got... plans tonight," Steve tried. It was way too vague. Robin wouldn't buy it.
"I've got a date," Steve corrected.
"Since when do you not tell me about your dates? I could literally name every girl you've slept with... probably ever. Which is very gross, and slightly codependent– but not the point." Shit. Robin had a point.
"I forgot about it. No big deal. You just reminded me." Steve hated lying to Robin. He wasn't good at lying to Robin.
"No, you didn't. You've checked your watch five times in the last hour. That's only something you do when you know you've got to be somewhere," Robin argued.
Lie better, Harrington. Steve thought. He needed to meet up with Eddie. If he didn't do it that night, he had no idea when the next opportunity would present itself.
"It's with a guy," Steve blurted out.
It was uncomfortably close to the truth, and in retrospect, he was surprised he hadn't talked to Robin about his burgeoning sexuality crisis sooner. He hadn't wanted to. If he said it out loud, it would make it real.
Instead of saying anything in reply, Robin pulled him into a bone-crushing hug that knocked the air from his lungs. For a moment, he stiffened before sinking in. It'd been a long time since someone had held him. It was a shock to the system.
"I'm sorry,' She muttered against Steve's shoulder, surprising him. What did she have to feel sorry for?
"I shouldn't have pushed you. If you're not ready to come out, that's okay. This conversation never happened. Look, I've already forgotten about it. You can tell me again in a month or a year. Or never. Never is okay, too. A little unhealthy, but okay... You should talk to someone about it at some stage, though," Robin rambled, her words tumbled over one another, as they did when she was nervous.
"It's okay. I wanted to talk to you about it, I just..." Steve didn't know how to explain, but he didn't have to. Robin was nodding enthusiastically.
"It's hard to say it sometimes."
"I don't know if I've even said it to myself yet," Steve admitted.
Robin squeezed his shoulder hard before letting him go.
"It's okay. Sometimes it takes time. No rush," She assured before a dark look crossed her face.
"This guy, is he nice?" Steve wanted to laugh.
"No, Rob, he's an asshole. What do you think?" He placed a hand on his hip and cocked his brow.
"Honestly, Steve? With your track record with girls, I've got no idea. When it comes to your love life, you're Mr Self-Sabotage."
"He's nice," Steve said.
He wasn't sure if the general population of Hawkins would agree that Eddie 'The Freak' Munson was nice, but Hawkins didn't know Eddie. He collected lost and broken things. He made sure no one ever felt left out, no matter how strange they were. He opened doors for people. He made Steve feel like a person, for the first time in a long time.
"Do I know him?" Robin asked.
"Remember when you said I shouldn't out people?" Steve asked, side-stepping the question. Saying he was going on a date with a guy was one thing; dating long-dead Eddie Munson was something else entirely.
"Okay. Fine. You're right. But I'm here if you do need to talk about it," Robin promised, and Steve nodded, looking down at his watch. He was so late. He hoped they hadn't started the burn yet.
"Alright, Lover boy. I won't keep you any longer. Have a good date. I'll be expecting all the gory details tomorrow."
Steve snorted and waved her off.
Steve Harrington was reckless, but sometimes, being reckless paid off.
Steve tried to recall everything Hopper had told them about his previous crawls. He'd followed close to one of the military trucks, hitching a ride on the back when the coast was clear. Though if Hopper got caught, he had an arsenal of guns. All Steve had was a poorly fashioned nail bat, a flask of kerosene and a lighter.
As the terrain became marred with sparsely populated trees, Steve jumped and rolled for cover. From there, he waited for the military to leave, then set about trying to find Eddie. Unfortunately, something else found him first.
A demodog lurched from the shadows, knocking Steve from his feet. In a heartbeat, he scrambled upright, swinging the bat and landing a solid blow to the creature's side. He was winding up for a second hit when something encircled his wrist. He looked to see Eddie, stilling his hand and urging him with a violent tug to run. You didn't have to tell Steve twice.
The two boys ran side-by-side, keeping pace with each other's matching strides. It became a rhythm, the crunch of dirt underfoot at Steve's side and to his back. The demodog continued to pursue for several miles. They didn't stop until long after the creature had disappeared from view.
Finally, Eddie stopped running, and the boys doubled over, sucking gasping lungfuls of spore-filled air. Steve had hardly caught his breath when Eddie barrelled into him, knocking him off his feet and surprising him with a tight and desperate hug.
"God Stevie, you're a sight for sore eyes," Eddie mumbled, sounding far less winded than Steve felt. He wondered how much of Eddie's day was spent running from monsters.
Steve didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected to make it as far as he had. He hadn't expected Eddie to be real, not really. He'd never been good with his words. He wrapped his arms around Eddie and held him tightly, trying to erase the last memory of his glassy brown eyes, staring sightless at the stars, his bloodless body painted red.
Steve buried his face in Eddie's chest, never mind the dry gravel digging into his exposed flesh. His breathing was uneven. He was startlingly close to crying and Eddie seemed to notice.
"Hey, all that for little old me," He muttered, shifting, freeing a hand so he could angle Steve's face to meet his gaze.
"I missed you," Steve remarked.
If Eddie were a normal person, he might have said something like 'you don't know me, how could you miss me?' Good thing Eddie Munson was anything but a normal person.
"I missed you too," Eddie replied and gave Steve one more tight squeeze, looking for a moment like he couldn't believe it was something Steve was letting him do. Steve wanted him to do it again.
"As much as I'd like to stay here with you, if we don't get moving, something's bound to catch up with us. This area has been a hotbed for hell beasts lately."
The two broke apart and started to make their way towards the vine-like wall where Steve had entered. They jogged at a steady pace. Steve hoped the military was bound for their fortress in The Upside Down and wouldn't be coming back soon, but he could never be sure.
"I can't believe you actually made it," Eddie gasped as he ran, exhilarated by Steve's mere presence.
"I told you, Munson. Sneaky, like a ninja, and you doubted me," Steve laughed.
"I didn't underestimate your abilities, so much as I overestimated the goddamn military," Eddie spoke. He kept glancing at Steve, as though disbelieving his eyes.
"You'd be surprised how far I'd go for a good date, Munson." Steve shot Eddie a wink. Eddie let out a strangled cough.
It surprised Steve how easy flirting with him was once he'd permitted himself. He revelled in the way he'd made Eddie Munson, a fully grown man, blush. Oh, Steve could get used to this. Flirting with Eddie was new and thrilling. How had Steve spent so long not doing it?
'A 'good date,' huh? Laying it on a little thick there, sweetheart. I'm a mediocre date at best," Eddie uttered, picking up the pace.
Steve hung back for a moment, just to watch the way his body moved. If he'd had any doubt he was straight, the thoughts that sprang to his mind as he watched Eddie's body move put a stop to it.
"You'll just have to prove it then," Steve smirked, running to catch up with Eddie, teasingly tugging the bandanna from the back pocket of his jeans as he did so.
He heard Eddie mutter, 'Jesus H. Christ' under his breath.
It wasn't long before the two arrived at the burn site. Steve pulled the flask from his pocket, drenching the wall of strange vine-like growths in kerosene.
"Steve, if this doesn't work..." Eddie began, but Steve held up a hand to stop him. It had to work.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow night at the high school parking lot," Eddie pushed.
"It's going to work."
"We've only got one shot at this tonight. You've got enough lighter fluid for one run out, and I'm not letting you get stuck here with me. If it doesn't work, we'll try something else. We'll work it out."
Steve turned to face Eddie, looking down at the boy's ringed fingers. He wanted to touch them. No one was stopping him. He pulled the boy's hands into his. They were rough and calloused in a way that made Steve's mouth go dry. How the hell hadn't he considered how good a man's hands could feel? Logistically, he knew, but now that he'd allowed himself to consider it, there was a whole world he'd been missing out on.
When Steve looked up from Eddie's hands, he was surprised to meet startled brown eyes. Eddie's gaze shifted over Steve's face, landing on his lips. Please. Steve thought. Please.
"I'm going to kiss you, so if things go south, we both know what we've got to look forward to. Okay?" Steve nodded.
"Okay."
One of Eddie's hands moved to encircle the back of Steve's neck, while the other landed palm down on the side of his face. He hadn't realised Eddie had stubble until he was kissing him. God, it was good. Eddie's rough hands with their gentle touch made Steve weak at the knees. He surged forward, deepening the kiss. One hand trailed down to the small of Eddie's back, and the other settled lower still.
Steve could die in that moment, and he'd die happy.
The sound of distant cars caused the two to spring apart. Steve wanted more. They didn't have time.
"We've gotta go." Eddie nodded.
Steve reached for his lighter and watched as the fire scorched through the vines. He gripped Eddie's hand hard. The hole left was narrow. Steve went first, but as soon as Eddie's hand reached the threshold, Steve felt the resistance. He tugged harder, hoping it would help, but Eddie didn't budge. Steve gazed over his shoulder at the boy and caught his sad smile.
"It's okay, Stevie. We knew it was a long shot."
It wasn't fair. It goddamn wasn't fair.
"I'm not leaving you," Steve insisted.
Eddie squeezed Steve's hand.
"Come back and visit soon, okay?"
Eddie let go of Steve's hand and pushed him out of the Upside Down. He landed with a thud on the familiar ground of Hawkins.
He lay in the dirt, looking up at the stars. The night was silent, not quiet.
I've been thinking about ghost being legally dead, and how...constricting that must be.
Being dead, he can't have anything in his name. No house, no banking account, no license, nothing.
He's given the keys and an address to some apartment, and that's where he lives. Sometimes, it changes without warning, and ghost has to pack up and leave in the span of a few hours. Eventually, he stops unpacking.
Ghost doesn't earn money, not really. He's given a debit card with a fixed amount each month, though no one's ever told him what that amount is and he refuses to ask. Any cash he has is made through bets or, when he was desperate, a quick handy.
He wears everything until they have holes in them, sews on patches, then wears those until the patches have holes too. Ghost eventually has to ask price for new gear, new clothes, new shoes.
Sure, price never makes a fuss, he simply nods and the next day gives ghost his items. But...in the back of his mind ghost is keeping score. How much is he worth? Will asking for thermal socks be too much? Will buying a thicker blanket seem frivolous? When will he ask for more than he's worth?
So ghost just...doesn't ask. He lives on the bare minimum, buys cheap food and picks off the moldy parts of bread. Sleeps on a sleeping bag on the floor, convenient when he has to move locations. Owns one blanket and picks up quarters on the street so he can do laundry.
In a way...it kind of reminds him of home. In some weird, odd connection he refuses to acknowledge, simon likes the struggle. Being a martyr is easier than fighting to be valued.
cas gets approached by a salesperson and immediately pivots to what he thinks dean needs to get a better nights’ sleep
later:
“your partner says you’ll ask for a ‘military-grade, firm whatever’ but you should really try something w better contour memory foam, medium or soft-medium with lumbar support and slow-response foam for motion isolation”
dean stares accusingly past her, at cas, like (wow great, now she thinks weird stuff about us)
and cas just shrugs and makes it worse, “i’ve watched you sleep. according to the sales pamphlet, this might help you stop bracing… rest more comfortably”
dean goes very pink in the face
and the salesperson is like “that’s so sweet” then “but what do you need, sir?”
“i don’t have needs / i don’t sleep much”
and dean jokes maybe a cushy fabric headboard cas can sit against
the next thing you know, she’s coaxing both of them to sit on a setup she thinks is just perfect
Steve Harrington was trying to be a better person, but one night in late August, despite his best efforts, he had a truly selfish thought. He wished Robin wasn't dating Vickie. He hated himself for even entertaining the idea. Robin deserved to be with someone who loved her. She was amazing. She was smart, funny, and a little bit of a weirdo– which Steve had learnt was his type.
He wasn't jealous of Vickie. Not in the way you'd think. He was over being in love with Robin, but he missed having his best friend around. For so long, he and Robin had been joined at the hip. Now Robin had Vickie, which meant he saw less and less of her.
Whenever he tried to strike up a conversation with Nancy, she'd look at him like he'd sprouted a third head. Maybe she thought he was flirting, which wasn't ideal. Talking to Jonathan was a nonstarter because he thought Steve was still trying to get together with Nancy.
Then there was Dustin. Before, when he'd had no one else, he'd had Dustin to talk to. Was it depressing that one of his best friends was several years his junior? Yes, but Steve would take what he could get. The problem was that Dustin had changed since Eddie's death. Most days, he wouldn't look at Steve, let alone talk to him. Which meant, once again, Steve Harrington was alone.
When the silence of his empty house grew too loud, Steve would drive around town. The quarantine zone was one of the many prisons his life held. In years past, he could've hit the road until he reached Indianapolis, but now he looped around the town's perimeter until his fuel light blinked or the night faded into morning.
He was so damn lonely. There was also the matter of going crazy.
Steve was hearing voices on the radio. More specifically, one voice on the radio, Eddie Munson's. The first time it happened, he and Dustin had been in the WSQK van, on a crawl, slowly following Hopper's trail in the Upside Down, topside. Amongst Hopper's garbled voice and static, another sound rose from the din.
"Hello? Anyone?" The voice– Eddie's voice, sounded hoarse, as though he'd been calling out for some time.
Naturally, Steve looked to Henderson, expecting to see the kid as frantic as he felt, but he wore his usual bored and despondent look as he mindlessly turned the knobs and dials.
"Henderson, you hear that?"
This was it. The moment Steve finally lost his mind. With all the shit he'd seen, he supposed it was about time.
"Hopper trying to get through on the walkie? Yes, Steve. I do, and I'd be able to pick up the signal better if you'd speed up a little."
"Yeah, but what about...?" Steve let his thought fade. He was tired. He hadn't been sleeping well. He was dreaming with his eyes open.
Only Steve kept hearing the voice. Not just on their crawls but on his late-night drives in the Beamer. The Squawk went off air after ten, which meant the station played nothing but static, and through that static, Steve started hearing Eddie. That night in August, Steve went crazy enough to start answering.
"Hello?" Eddie's voice croaked through the static. He sounded as tired as Steve felt.
"Anyone? Ground control to Major Tom? This is E.T. phoning home." Despite everything, Eddie could still joke.
Steve liked to think that, in another life, they could have been friends. Maybe that was why his sleep-addled brain had conjured up Eddie's voice from the ether.
"Hey... uh, Major Tom to ground control?" Steve spoke to the air as he took a tight turn down the end of a quiet neighbourhood.
In another life, Steve would like to live in a comfortably quiet home. His house screamed with the silence of abandonment, instead of sleeping with tranquillity. There was a difference between quiet and silence, not many people knew.
For a moment, there was nothing but static, but then it was shattered by what sounded like the gasp of a wounded animal.
Steve had to jerk the wheel as he felt himself driving dangerously close to the curb. He pulled over, but left the car running.
"Live and in stereo. Jesus H. You don't know how happy I am to hear your voice."
Steve might be feeding his own delusions, but god, it felt good to be wanted, just once.
"I could say the same about you. Where are you?"
"I'm stuck in the damn Upside Down, man. Have been for... I don't know how long. I've been running around this goddamn hellscape, hiding from the demogorgons for... I don't know."
Steve leaned back against the headrest and let his eyes fall shut, trying to focus.
"Sixteen months, give or take," Steve breathed. God, he'd been gone so long. This couldn't be real. Eddie had died. Steve had watched him die.
"No... no that can't be right. It can't. It hasn't..." Eddie's voice trailed off, appearing confused.
"I'm sorry... Eddie– Eds, you died." Steve had hoped his sick mind would send him a friend, but instead it sent him a therapy session.
"I tried to save you, man. By the time I got there... there was so much blood–." Steve was glad he'd parked, because he could feel his hands begin to shake.
Watching someone die never leaves you. Steve could close his eyes, and he was back there. Part of him would always be there. He'd heard Dustin's wails of anguish before he'd seen the grusome scene. He knew something had gone terribly wrong.
He'd run until he felt as though his lungs would explode. He'd been so focused on Dustin at first, he hadn't noticed Eddie. He'd taken the boy's bloody face between his hands and tried to examine every inch of him to determine where the blood was coming from. Dustin pushed him away, sobbing Eddie's name. Eddie had been so still that Steve had thought he was already gone. However, he placed the back of his hand inches from Eddie's lips and felt small puffs of air.
The flesh at his sides had been torn beyond recognition, resembling minced meat, instead of flesh and bone. Steve had done his best to pack the wound. He'd been wrist deep inside Eddie's skin. He'd never forget the warm flow of blood around his fingers as he tried to feed Eddie's intestines back inside his body. He'd never un-hear the wet squelch of flesh on flesh. He'd tried his best to save Eddie. Logically, he knew that. But he never felt like he'd done enough.
He remembered struggling to hold Eddie in his arms, as they made for the gate out of The Upside Down. All the blood made him slippery. Steve had toppled over, desperately trying to cling to Eddie rather than letting him go. He'd skinned his knees, his hands and his chin. It'd taken Steve four tries to hoist Eddie up through the hole in the trailer roof, with Dustin hot on his heels.
By the time Eddie's body was in Hawkins, his eyes were glassy, and he'd stopped breathing. Even then, Steve had tried. He scraped together all the knowledge he'd gathered from his first job as a lifeguard during his sophomore year and beat down on Eddie's chest until his wrist ached and he was covered in sweat. Nothing brought him back, but god, he'd tried.
"I died," Eddie echoed at last. Steve thought he heard a hint of disbelief in his tone.
"But I'm... here," Eddie sounded as lost as Steve felt.
"I'm sorry," Steve breathed. Unsure what else he was supposed to say.
"Oh shit," Eddie's voice crackled through the static, sounding suddenly distant.
"Creepy demodogs are hot on my six, Steve. I've gotta move. Find me again. I don't know how you did it but–." The radio static swallowed Eddie's voice whole.
Once again, Steve was alone.
After being directionless for so long, Steve threw himself headlong into finding and contacting Eddie. Any spare moment was spent combing every inch of Hawkins, with the radio tuned to static if he was driving or his walkie-talkie fixed to his and Eddie's private channel if he was on foot.
He wasn't sure if he was going crazy, but the alternative was worse. If he wasn't crazy, that meant part of Eddie had survived, only to be trapped in an evil wizard's hell dimension. Steve Harrington wasn't in the business of leaving his people behind. He had to bring Eddie home.
In the weeks that followed, he and Eddie had come closer to understanding how to contact each other. Much like Hopper's walkie and the Squawk van, Eddie and Steve needed to be close to one another to talk. At first, that seemed to make matters simple. If Eddie camped out at Steve's house in The Upside Down and Steve turned on his walkie, they could talk for hours on end, which they did. However, the Upside Down was still crawling with demogorgons, meaning it wasn't safe to stay in one place too long, lest Eddie get cornered. Neither boy wanted to know what would happen if he died twice.
They organised nightly meet-ups across Hawkins, trying to keep Eddie on the move. All the while, Steve was trying to work out how to get back into the Upside Down to get Eddie out without the military or the other members of the party realising. He hadn't intended to keep Eddie's possible return from the dead from the others, but everything felt so complicated. There were too many variables, too many things to go wrong. Losing Eddie once had broken Dustin in ways Steve feared he would never mend from. He didn't dare think what would happen if they couldn't save Eddie a second time. To Steve's surprise, Eddie agreed. Neither boy would admit it, but they both knew how unlikely it was that they'd be able to get Eddie out.
"Where should we swing by tomorrow? I was thinking maybe we could hang out at Enzo's parking lot," Eddie's voice rose from the static.
It was mid-September, and the boys had grown close in such a short time. Steve had been surprised at how easy they had bonded in the days after Eddie was accused of murder. Eddie knew what he was going to say before Steve did, particularly regarding Dustin, and, much to Steve's surprise, he could read Eddie's moods without the man saying a word. It was a bond he'd shared with Robin, but that had taken months of working a minimum wage job together, coupled with being drugged and tortured, not to mention Robin coming out to him.
He and Eddie didn't have as much shared history. They hardly talked in high school. Steve didn't know how to explain it. He felt like a part of him had always known Eddie. Even when they had been strangers, Eddie had caught Steve's eye at his parties and across the cafeteria. His long hair, denim vest and ringed fingers always managed to snag Steve's attention, like a hangnail in a knitted sweater.
He thought, for a moment, of Robin's bathroom confession, how much she'd noticed about him, because of her crush on Tammy Thompson. Steve had always noticed Eddie, but not because he was popular with any of the girls he'd half-heartedly dated. Steve had spent a long time trying to unpack what all that meant for him.
After Eddie's death, he'd never admit how much he mourned what could have been. He felt like they were getting a second chance, and he wasn't about to let it go to waste. If it were anyone else, Steve would've worried he'd come on too strong, as was his habit, but to his surprise, for each part of himself he overshared, Eddie did so in kind.
Steve supposed it was bound to happen. Eddie had been alone for months. He needed someone. Steve had been lonely for... years, really. They both needed one another.
It was one of the lucky nights, they'd been able to meet at his home. His late nights and early mornings hunting for Eddie meant his sleep schedule was nonexistent, so getting to curl up in his bed with the walkie by his head as he talked to Eddie felt like a small luxury. He wondered if Eddie was in the same place in the Upside Down, curled up on top of the covers, in Steve's bed. The thought made him shiver. He was trying not to dwell on all the feelings Eddie spurred in him. It was too complex.
"You want to take me to Enzo's?" Steve mused, propping his arm behind his head.
"I figured you're a class act, Harrington. If we're going to meet in a parking lot under the cover of darkness, it might as well be one worthy of your standing," Eddie replied, making Steve roll his eyes.
"I've got another idea," Steve began.
"This morning, I drove close enough to the military base to pick up on their internal radio chatter. Turns out, they're doing a burn tomorrow night at the break near Forest Hills. The rest of the gang hasn't picked up on it yet. Thought we could try meeting up in your neck of the woods," Steve proposed.
"By my neck of the woods, you mean The Upside Down? Don't you think it's a little dangerous sneaking past the military on your own?" Eddie was hesitant, but he wasn't saying no.
"It's only dangerous if you get caught, and I know how to be sneaky," Steve argued and heard a faint snicker.
"Just because you say you'd make a good ninja dude, doesn't mean I believe you."
"I'm not hearing a no," Steve challenged.
"That's because, as dumb as your idea sounds... I really want to see someone that's not shaped like a hell-bat or a fly trap. You're playing on my weakness, Stevie," Eddie spoke. Steve felt a smile creep over his lips.
"So it's settled, I'll meet you there tomorrow night. If everything goes well, I might be able to get you topside by breakfast."
Steve knew he was being optimistic. When he had outlined the areas the military frequently burned to Eddie, the boy had tried to sneak past them and cross the barrier to Hawkins, but so far, he hadn't been successful. Something was keeping Eddie tethered there. They were entertaining a handful of theories, with no real evidence to support them.
"Okay, Stevie. Just be careful. If it's too dangerous, turn back. Don't play the hero," Eddie said, and it hurt to have his own words echoed back at him.
"I thought that was my job," Steve mumbled.
"No. Not today it's not. No more heroes," Eddie insisted.
"No more heroes," Steve echoed, gazing up at the ceiling, imagining Eddie beside him, doing the same.
"If we get you out of there, I'll actually take you to Enzo's... if you want," Steve whispered.
For a moment, he'd felt brave, but the second the words left his lips, he was terrified. Maybe he'd read Eddie all wrong.
He heard Eddie laugh. Which hurt more than it should.
"You know that's a date place, right? I know you're rich and all, but I couldn't imagine you and Tommy H swinging by for a candle-lit dinner after a basketball game."
"I know it's a date place," Steve tried again.
"That's why I asked you."
The silence that followed seemed to stretch out for a lifetime before Eddie uttered a quiet 'oh'.
"Yeah... Stevie. If everything goes as planned, I'll go to Enzo's with you."
Getting away from the radio station on time to meet Eddie was harder than Steve anticipated. He was halfway out the door when Robin called his name and jogged to catch up with him.
"Dingus. Vickie just called, and she's picking up a double shift at the hospital. Which means my Friday night is officially free. Want to have a movie night? Last week, Murray smuggled us some new tapes I've been dying to watch."
On any other night, Steve would've jumped at the opportunity to spend time with Robin, but not tonight. The only problem was, he hadn't had time to come up with a convincing lie.
"Ah, you see, I'd love to, but I've got... plans tonight," Steve tried. It was way too vague. Robin wouldn't buy it.
"I've got a date," Steve corrected.
"Since when do you not tell me about your dates? I could literally name every girl you've slept with... probably ever. Which is very gross, and slightly codependent– but not the point." Shit. Robin had a point.
"I forgot about it. No big deal. You just reminded me." Steve hated lying to Robin. He wasn't good at lying to Robin.
"No, you didn't. You've checked your watch five times in the last hour. That's only something you do when you know you've got to be somewhere," Robin argued.
Lie better, Harrington. Steve thought. He needed to meet up with Eddie. If he didn't do it that night, he had no idea when the next opportunity would present itself.
"It's with a guy," Steve blurted out.
It was uncomfortably close to the truth, and in retrospect, he was surprised he hadn't talked to Robin about his burgeoning sexuality crisis sooner. He hadn't wanted to. If he said it out loud, it would make it real.
Instead of saying anything in reply, Robin pulled him into a bone-crushing hug that knocked the air from his lungs. For a moment, he stiffened before sinking in. It'd been a long time since someone had held him. It was a shock to the system.
"I'm sorry,' She muttered against Steve's shoulder, surprising him. What did she have to feel sorry for?
"I shouldn't have pushed you. If you're not ready to come out, that's okay. This conversation never happened. Look, I've already forgotten about it. You can tell me again in a month or a year. Or never. Never is okay, too. A little unhealthy, but okay... You should talk to someone about it at some stage, though," Robin rambled, her words tumbled over one another, as they did when she was nervous.
"It's okay. I wanted to talk to you about it, I just..." Steve didn't know how to explain, but he didn't have to. Robin was nodding enthusiastically.
"It's hard to say it sometimes."
"I don't know if I've even said it to myself yet," Steve admitted.
Robin squeezed his shoulder hard before letting him go.
"It's okay. Sometimes it takes time. No rush," She assured before a dark look crossed her face.
"This guy, is he nice?" Steve wanted to laugh.
"No, Rob, he's an asshole. What do you think?" He placed a hand on his hip and cocked his brow.
"Honestly, Steve? With your track record with girls, I've got no idea. When it comes to your love life, you're Mr Self-Sabotage."
"He's nice," Steve said.
He wasn't sure if the general population of Hawkins would agree that Eddie 'The Freak' Munson was nice, but Hawkins didn't know Eddie. He collected lost and broken things. He made sure no one ever felt left out, no matter how strange they were. He opened doors for people. He made Steve feel like a person, for the first time in a long time.
"Do I know him?" Robin asked.
"Remember when you said I shouldn't out people?" Steve asked, side-stepping the question. Saying he was going on a date with a guy was one thing; dating long-dead Eddie Munson was something else entirely.
"Okay. Fine. You're right. But I'm here if you do need to talk about it," Robin promised, and Steve nodded, looking down at his watch. He was so late. He hoped they hadn't started the burn yet.
"Alright, Lover boy. I won't keep you any longer. Have a good date. I'll be expecting all the gory details tomorrow."
Steve snorted and waved her off.
Steve Harrington was reckless, but sometimes, being reckless paid off.
Steve tried to recall everything Hopper had told them about his previous crawls. He'd followed close to one of the military trucks, hitching a ride on the back when the coast was clear. Though if Hopper got caught, he had an arsenal of guns. All Steve had was a poorly fashioned nail bat, a flask of kerosene and a lighter.
As the terrain became marred with sparsely populated trees, Steve jumped and rolled for cover. From there, he waited for the military to leave, then set about trying to find Eddie. Unfortunately, something else found him first.
A demodog lurched from the shadows, knocking Steve from his feet. In a heartbeat, he scrambled upright, swinging the bat and landing a solid blow to the creature's side. He was winding up for a second hit when something encircled his wrist. He looked to see Eddie, stilling his hand and urging him with a violent tug to run. You didn't have to tell Steve twice.
The two boys ran side-by-side, keeping pace with each other's matching strides. It became a rhythm, the crunch of dirt underfoot at Steve's side and to his back. The demodog continued to pursue for several miles. They didn't stop until long after the creature had disappeared from view.
Finally, Eddie stopped running, and the boys doubled over, sucking gasping lungfuls of spore-filled air. Steve had hardly caught his breath when Eddie barrelled into him, knocking him off his feet and surprising him with a tight and desperate hug.
"God Stevie, you're a sight for sore eyes," Eddie mumbled, sounding far less winded than Steve felt. He wondered how much of Eddie's day was spent running from monsters.
Steve didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected to make it as far as he had. He hadn't expected Eddie to be real, not really. He'd never been good with his words. He wrapped his arms around Eddie and held him tightly, trying to erase the last memory of his glassy brown eyes, staring sightless at the stars, his bloodless body painted red.
Steve buried his face in Eddie's chest, never mind the dry gravel digging into his exposed flesh. His breathing was uneven. He was startlingly close to crying and Eddie seemed to notice.
"Hey, all that for little old me," He muttered, shifting, freeing a hand so he could angle Steve's face to meet his gaze.
"I missed you," Steve remarked.
If Eddie were a normal person, he might have said something like 'you don't know me, how could you miss me?' Good thing Eddie Munson was anything but a normal person.
"I missed you too," Eddie replied and gave Steve one more tight squeeze, looking for a moment like he couldn't believe it was something Steve was letting him do. Steve wanted him to do it again.
"As much as I'd like to stay here with you, if we don't get moving, something's bound to catch up with us. This area has been a hotbed for hell beasts lately."
The two broke apart and started to make their way towards the vine-like wall where Steve had entered. They jogged at a steady pace. Steve hoped the military was bound for their fortress in The Upside Down and wouldn't be coming back soon, but he could never be sure.
"I can't believe you actually made it," Eddie gasped as he ran, exhilarated by Steve's mere presence.
"I told you, Munson. Sneaky, like a ninja, and you doubted me," Steve laughed.
"I didn't underestimate your abilities, so much as I overestimated the goddamn military," Eddie spoke. He kept glancing at Steve, as though disbelieving his eyes.
"You'd be surprised how far I'd go for a good date, Munson." Steve shot Eddie a wink. Eddie let out a strangled cough.
It surprised Steve how easy flirting with him was once he'd permitted himself. He revelled in the way he'd made Eddie Munson, a fully grown man, blush. Oh, Steve could get used to this. Flirting with Eddie was new and thrilling. How had Steve spent so long not doing it?
'A 'good date,' huh? Laying it on a little thick there, sweetheart. I'm a mediocre date at best," Eddie uttered, picking up the pace.
Steve hung back for a moment, just to watch the way his body moved. If he'd had any doubt he was straight, the thoughts that sprang to his mind as he watched Eddie's body move put a stop to it.
"You'll just have to prove it then," Steve smirked, running to catch up with Eddie, teasingly tugging the bandanna from the back pocket of his jeans as he did so.
He heard Eddie mutter, 'Jesus H. Christ' under his breath.
It wasn't long before the two arrived at the burn site. Steve pulled the flask from his pocket, drenching the wall of strange vine-like growths in kerosene.
"Steve, if this doesn't work..." Eddie began, but Steve held up a hand to stop him. It had to work.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow night at the high school parking lot," Eddie pushed.
"It's going to work."
"We've only got one shot at this tonight. You've got enough lighter fluid for one run out, and I'm not letting you get stuck here with me. If it doesn't work, we'll try something else. We'll work it out."
Steve turned to face Eddie, looking down at the boy's ringed fingers. He wanted to touch them. No one was stopping him. He pulled the boy's hands into his. They were rough and calloused in a way that made Steve's mouth go dry. How the hell hadn't he considered how good a man's hands could feel? Logistically, he knew, but now that he'd allowed himself to consider it, there was a whole world he'd been missing out on.
When Steve looked up from Eddie's hands, he was surprised to meet startled brown eyes. Eddie's gaze shifted over Steve's face, landing on his lips. Please. Steve thought. Please.
"I'm going to kiss you, so if things go south, we both know what we've got to look forward to. Okay?" Steve nodded.
"Okay."
One of Eddie's hands moved to encircle the back of Steve's neck, while the other landed palm down on the side of his face. He hadn't realised Eddie had stubble until he was kissing him. God, it was good. Eddie's rough hands with their gentle touch made Steve weak at the knees. He surged forward, deepening the kiss. One hand trailed down to the small of Eddie's back, and the other settled lower still.
Steve could die in that moment, and he'd die happy.
The sound of distant cars caused the two to spring apart. Steve wanted more. They didn't have time.
"We've gotta go." Eddie nodded.
Steve reached for his lighter and watched as the fire scorched through the vines. He gripped Eddie's hand hard. The hole left was narrow. Steve went first, but as soon as Eddie's hand reached the threshold, Steve felt the resistance. He tugged harder, hoping it would help, but Eddie didn't budge. Steve gazed over his shoulder at the boy and caught his sad smile.
"It's okay, Stevie. We knew it was a long shot."
It wasn't fair. It goddamn wasn't fair.
"I'm not leaving you," Steve insisted.
Eddie squeezed Steve's hand.
"Come back and visit soon, okay?"
Eddie let go of Steve's hand and pushed him out of the Upside Down. He landed with a thud on the familiar ground of Hawkins.
He lay in the dirt, looking up at the stars. The night was silent, not quiet.
dean is like. my heart is a nest. i gathered sticks and twigs and leaves and plucked my own feathers to to make it comfortable for you. why won't you come home. and cas says i would stay caged behind your ribs but i'd have to break them first.
Tommy’s oldest brother, Theo, likes to use every second he can to exercise his god given right to be an annoying older brother which is fine. He has a lot of brothers.
Unfortunately Steve spent too much time at their house growing up so he is considered one of those brothers.
He’s trying to stock shelves when he’s nearly taken off his feet by a twenty-nine year old former high school quarterback.
Steve’s about to tell him to grow up when Dustin come out of nowhere and pushes Theo like, “Hey, back off! If he gets hit in the head one more time then he’ll probably die or be even more brain dead.”
“Even more?” Steve says offended.
“You’ve been concussed three times, Steve.”
“You got another concussion?” Theo asks. “I thought that’s why you stopped playing football.”
“This isn’t about that,” Steve says at the same time Dustin exclaims, “YOU WERE CONCUSSED BEFORE???”
“Jesus, kid, inside voices,” Steve swears, standing on his tiptoes to look over the shelve to see Robin pretending to ignore them. “I had a life before the party.”
“You’ve been concussed four times???”
“Wait,” Theo says. “You’ve had two more concussions?”
“You’ve been concussed FIVE times???” Dustin exclaims and then turns to Theo, “Dustin Henderson. Steve’s best friend.“
“Theo,” He shakes the kid’s hand. “You ditched my brother for a five year old, Stevie?”
I know it’s been said before but an iconic, undeniably canon property of Cas' and tangentially of the Destiel dynamic is the “buddy boy you’ve got what they call sex appeal” of it all. I mean it’s always great when humans look at Cas being strange and off-putting and fumbling his way through every single human interaction and go “what a hot endearing guy”, don’t get me wrong. But what I really can’t get enough of is the fact that he also has the angelic equivalent of crazy game which he’s usually only marginally aware of/completely disinterested in save for being generally prideful or using it for tactical purposes. Even more hilarious, the fact that throughout the show the other angels are absolutely fucking fuming about him choosing humans in spite of this.
Because the thing is Cas is already reasonably well regarded amongst angels as a very competent and loyal soldier and then after he falls he just keeps exponentially gaining both a bad reputation and a cult following. He used to be a master tactician. He was around for Heaven’s greatest battles. He’s led two different controversial uprisings. He keeps disobeying God’s word and he’s killed thousands and he might be a little batshit crazy but he’s also just. Kind of a nice dude. He’s Heaven’s most wanted, for better or for worse. Every angel he meets either wants to fucking kill him or drop to their knees and pledge allegiance, which in angel terms pretty much makes him the extremely fuckable guy with a leather jacket and motorcycle in every teen drama.
And then every time the angels do meet him, instead of a host of warriors there’s this pathetic miniscule angry creature bristling and hissing at his side and the angels are like. Castiel. Why is that bacteria speaking to you. And Castiel fierce garrison commander savior of the rebellion war criminal bearer of free will who God Himself resurrected 47482 times gets this horrifying soft misty eyed look on his face and goes “oh no that’s just my bestest friend in the whole world most beautiful incredible lovable person I’ve ever met in my entire millennia-long life. Dean say hi” and the bacteria goes 🙄😒😏 and rattles off the most incomprehensible sentence on God’s green earth and then calls the angels a slur and the angels collectively feel grace leak out their ears
Lawyer!Steve AU where he works at his father's firm and gets handed all the pro bono cases because he's the only one that actually cares about these people's fates and wants to help them if he can.
One day, his dad hands him a murder case; not his first one, but not the kind of case they usually accept pro bono. Too much work to be done for free, his father had said once. So, imagine Steve's shock when he opens the case file and sees that their client is being accused of murdering a young woman.
Edward Munson, age 29, mechanic, is being accused of murdering Chrissy Cunningham, age 27, in the woods next to Forest Hills Trailer Park, Hawkins. Chrissy was stabbed six times in the chest, bleeding to death in minutes. There were no witnesses to the crime, but the murder weapon was found close to Munson's trailer.
And that's it. No more evidences, nothing else to confirm anything; just a weapon found close to where their client lives and the police thought it would be reasonable to arrest the man and lock him up for, oh my God, the guy's been in jail for six fucking months already.
Steve spends two days going over every single piece of paper, every single document in the file. When he's sure he's got everything analyzed at least twice, he takes his things and drives to the detention center his client is being held.
It takes Steve five minutes to find out that Munson isn't very cooperative, and five more to find out that he's an asshole.
Steve tries to talk to him, tells Munson he thinks his case is not hopeless, that he thinks the accusation is weak and that maybe he can convince the judge to at least accept to change Munson to house arrest while he waits for his trial.
Munson doesn't say a word. He stares at Steve with blank eyes and doesn't open his mouth once.
After Steve finishes explaining everything, Munson asks, "Are you done?"
When Steve says yes, Munson just says, "Good," then gets up and asks the guard to take him back to his cell.
This shocks Steve so much he stays there for a minute too long, staring at Munson's empty seat as if doing it would bring the man back somehow.
Then, comes the anger, and Steve stomps out of the detention center slamming the door behind him.
Steve goes back to the firm and starts studying the case all over again, looking for things that he might have missed. He calls the police and tries to talk to the officer who arrested Munson, but he's informed the man doesn't work for the Hawkins Police anymore. When Steve asks for the man's address, the receptionist tells him the man left Hawkins with his family a couple of months ago.
This rings an alarm in Steve's mind, his instincts telling him there's something wrong with the case.
He drives to the detention center again the next day and Munson is just as uncooperative as before; He lets Steve talk and talk, then gets up and leaves.
It's infuriating, especially because Steve knows there's something very, very wrong there. The lack of a real case, the missing cop, Munson's arrest under weak, almost inexistent evidences that links him to the crime. It's all very shady and weird and full of holes and Munson's apathy makes no sense at all.
Steve's dealt with criminals before, it's his freaking job to do so, and Munson's behavior just doesn't fit the description. Criminals usually use every single chance they have to convince everyone of their innocence; they cry, they lie, they do anything they need to get out of jail, but Munson does nothing of the sort.
His apathetic behavior is what makes Steve believe the man might be holding something back. Because it's not even as if Munson was admitting he's guilty and resigning himself to his fate. Not even that. He acts as if he doesn't care about what happens to him, as if trying wouldn't change anything, so he just doesn't.
But, well, if Munson can be stubborn so can Steve. Steve starts going to the detention center almost daily.
The first week, Munson keeps the blank attitude, never saying anything and barely looking at Steve at all.
By the second week there's a change. It's small, but it's there. When Munson sees Steve there, he can't hide his annoyance anymore. He still refuses to acknowledge Steve's attempts, but it's clear the lawyer if getting under his skin.
This just makes Steve double his efforts.
By the fourth week Munson finally snaps. When the guards bring him to the room Steve is waiting for him, he's barely sitting on the chair before he's snarling, "Why the fuck are you still here? What do you want??"
Steve doesn't flinch. "I want to help you," he says.
Munson scoffs. "A pretty boy like you, helping trailer trash like me? Yeah, that sounds reasonable."
And, see, Steve could just give up. He's not really getting paid to do any of this, his father gave him this case because he loves fucking with him and handing him cases he considers lost causes just to see Steve fail. But his damn insticts keep telling Steve there's more to it than what the files are telling him, that Munson knows things that can change everything.
Even more, he knows that by giving up he'd be doing exactly what his father expects him to do, and hell will freeze before Steve gives his dad this satisfaction.
"Wanna know why I'm doing this?" Steve asks then, and the slight anger in his voice catches Munson's attention.
He doesn't answer, but he does raises his eyebrows in interest.
"Because my father gave me your case expecting me to fail," Steve admits, leaning forward on the table separating the two of them. "He loves doing this, giving me cases he thinks I can't handle just to show me I'm the same useless kid who could never meet his expectations. But guess what, your case is not a lost cause. It's full of holes and the ends don't meet. I know I can get you out of here, but you need to talk to me and tell me what really happened the night Chrissy was found dead close to your trailer because, if you don't, the police's side of the story is gonna be the only side of the story. Are you really gonna let them dictate what's true or not?"
It works.
Steve can't quite believe it, but his little speech fucking works. There's a glint of amusement in Munson's eyes, as if only then he's seeing Steve and considering his words for real. His lips curl up the tiniest bit, as the man finally relaxes on his chair.
"An asshole father, huh? I can relate." Pale fingers toy with the chain linking his handcuffs to the table for a moment, before Munson looks Steve in the eye for the first time. "Do you really wanna know what happened that night?"
"Yes, I do."
"Fine. Then I guess I can cooperate with you, Mr. Harrington."
Steve makes a face, distate clear as day. "Mr. Harrington is my father. I'm Steve."
Munson grins at that. "Okay, Steve. I'll tell you my story, and then you see what you can do with it."
Eddie grins as his players groan and reluctantly start to gather their things. There's a bit of chatter as they all start to clean up, and Eddie's ears hone in on Dustin as the kid says "At least Steve will be happy we're ending on time for once."
That makes Eddie pause and he looks over. "Steve? Steve who?"
"Uh, Harrington? He usually drives us home after D&D?" Dustin says like it's obvious, like Eddie is a moron who should just know that Steve Harrington doubles as a taxi service for a gaggle of nerdy teens.
Eddie doesn't focus on the attitude though, because his eyes snap to the container of cookies Claudia had sent with Dustin for the game. "You're not taking those in his car, are you?"
Dustin gives him a look, which is fair. "Why is everyone so concerned about me getting crumbs in Steve's precious car??"
Eddie scoffs and grabs the tupperware, pulling it closer. "These are peanut butter cookies, dipshit. Are you trying to send the guy to the hospital?"
"Steve's not allergic to peanut butter," Mike says, piping up from across the table. "He keeps some at his house."
Are these children insane??
"Uh, he definitely is. I've watched him swell up like a balloon more than once from just touching the stuff. Speaking of, all of you to the bathroom now, you gotta wash your hands before you get in that car."
The boys all grumble as they finish packing up, but relent as Eddie practically forces them to the restroom down the hall. He stands in the door and watches like they're five-year-olds who need supervision, and only lets them leave once he's satisfied.
Eddie leaves his own things for a few minutes as he follows the three teens out to Steve's car, and watches the other boy step out to greet them. "Pop the trunk, Harrington. The kids got grubby peanut butter fingers all over their shit."
Steve gives the boys a look and says "Are you guys serious? Do you want me to stop breathing while driving you home?"
Dustin makes a bewildered noise. "You've never said anything about an allergy before! And you have peanut butter at your house!"
"That's almond butter, dickhead!" Steve replies as he opens the trunk of his car so the backpacks can be tossed in. "All of you put your shit in the back. And don't touch anything!"
Eddie moves closer as Steve shakes his head in disbelief. "I made them all wash their hands, hopefully that helps. And I've confiscated the rest of the batch, so you won't have to worry about any stray crumbs."
Steve looks at him and Eddie's stomach flips at having those hazel eyes locked on him. "I'm surprised that none of these shits knew about my allergy, but you seem to know even though we've never really talked."
Shit.
Eddie shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. "Yeah, well. Watching someone go into anaphylactic shock multiple times in a year isn't really something you forget, Steve."
Steve flushes a bit at Eddie's words. "I like Reese's," he admits softly, like he's sharing a secret with Eddie. "And sometimes I don't think before I put something in my mouth."
It takes a moment for the words to register, but then they're both going red; Steve from horror and Eddie from absolute delight.
Eddie grins as Steve tries to stammer out some kind of explanation, but Eddie cuts him off with a "Don't worry, Harrington. I'm the last person to be judging what another man puts in his mouth."
He does a little flick of the tongue at the end, just for emphasis, and Steve's eyes snap down to it before going even further down, like he's thinking of something else he could have in his mouth.
Eddie is seconds away from saying fuck it and propositioning Steve against his better judgement, until Dustin snaps a "Hey! We gotta go! I can't be late for curfew."
Steve rolls his eyes before catching Eddie's gaze again. He gives him another quick once-over then says "See you around, Munson."
It almost feels like a promise, and Eddie grins. "I hope so, Harrington."
Rotting with my obsessions @citrusandrottefruit - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
