SPAGHETTI RAT

i am alive :) | Constant Steddie brainrot | minor | im just being silly on the internet | im normal about GVF <3

[elidoesntbreathwee]

HELLO

Hi, my name's Eli/ Blade!!

Tbh im just being silly on the internet.

if u follow be prepared to see A LOT of steddie/stranger things and Greta van fleet content, mainly cuz im currently obsessed. But you may also see some stuff about music, and Ranboo. ALSO some occasional Boy Meets World stuff too :P

Hope we can be friends! WEE!!

[startingl1ne]

The Space Between a Rock and a Hard Place — Michael x Ashton [Part 1]

16+

Ashton works at a record store, Michael streams Overwatch, but Michael has a secret he’s been hiding from Ashton for quite some time.

warnings/tags: streamer!michael clifford, cashier!ashton irwin, t-girl!michael clifford, alternate universe: roommates, anxious attachment, fluff to angst to fluff, body insecurity, arguments, internalised transphobia (?), self acceptance, reassurance, i don’t know how to tag, domestic (?), long-time lovers, past best friends to lovers, flirting

wc: 3.3k (i’ll try to write more in the future 🥹)

authors note: so many people seem excited to read this from twt im so excited!! i’ve had this idea for a while, i just never really knew how to write it out. there might be a few holes here and there, sorry! not proof read either

inbox is open!

come find me on twitter!

Michael and Ashton had known each other since 5th year (6th grade), and they’ve been attached at the hip ever since Michael tripped in the lunchroom in front of Ashton and spilled all his chocolate milk all over his white uniform.

Now, they had a small apartment right above the record store that Ashton worked at. When Michael and Ashton were looking at apartments and came across the one they were in now, the landlord only agreed to sell it if one of them decided to work at the record store below.

Ashton, the more physically motivated than Michael, decided to take the job. He made enough for monthly rent, but when Michael took notice of the fact that they ended up with barely enough money for basic needs after rent was collected, he decided to take advantage of his best skill—gaming.

Michael had been playing video games since he was 9, and he was very good at shooter-type games. He would play with his sisters a lot, and he was always competitive with them. Of course, because of this, Michael decided to start a streamer account on twitch.

What would be the quickest way to get popular and bring in that cash him and Ashton desperately needed, you ask?

V-tubing as a female model, of course!

This surely would not have any future impact on Michael Clifford as a person gender-wise.

—-

Ashton knew about Michael’s streaming. I mean, he kind of had to; it would be weird for Michael to start gaining tons of money out of nowhere with no explanation. What Ashton didn’t know, however, was that Michael streamed as a v-tuber, used a female model of himself that he designed himself, and used a voice changer to pitch his voice up.

Surely, those details, and not sharing those details, didn’t have any sort of connotation whatsoever.

Michael very much underrated what good gaming skills and a good looking model can do, because he was rolling in hundreds by the first week. He had a routine: wake up around noon, shower, eat, stream, log off around the time Ashton got home, eat, sleep, and do it all over again the next day.

It worked insanely well, too. Ashton was always gone by the time Michael woke up, but it gave Michael more time to stream. Ashton worked from 7am-4pm, and him and Michael ended up going to bed around 9pm.

Ashton never ended up questioning Michael’s streaming habits, nor did he go out of his way to find out about them. They had money, and Ashton didn’t see a reason to get in the way of how Michael was making said money.

That was until, a few months later, Michael started acting really weird.

He was starting to get a little more nervy around Ashton, holding himself back from saying certain things, or being overly cautious of what Ashton was watching on his phone.

Ashton didn’t understand it at all; never once had Michael been worried about him cheating, but this almost seemed like something more than that, and Ashton started to wonder if he should be the one worried about Michael cheating.

That worry disappeared less than a week later, because one day when Ashton came home and they were eating dinner together on their table..

“Is Walgreens still open?” Michael asked, eating away at his Chicken Katsu and taking sips of his strawberry milk. He was in his pink overwatch pj pants and a baggy white tee, an outfit he sported more regularly than not these days.

Ashton raised an eyebrow, it was about 7:30pm, Walgreens was usually open til around 9 at their location, though he thought it was really random of Michael to ask that out of nowhere.

“Uh, yeah, they don’t usually close til around nine,” Ashton replied, taking a bite of his own chicken katsu, “Did you need something?”

Obviously, Michael needed something. What reason would he have to ask if the convenience store was open if he didn’t need anything? Sometimes, Michael just thought Ashton was stupid.

“Yeah, of course I need something, Ash.” Michael muttered, rolling his eyes and scoffing slightly.

Ashton rolled his eyes back, shaking his head. “You know what I meant. What do you need? We can go after we finish dinner.” He offered, taking the last few bites of his food.

Michael bit down on his lower lip for a second, thinking, and then he spoke. “I was thinking of dying my hair pink, and I also wanted make up.”

Ashton didn’t pause at the mention of hair dye—Michael changed the color of his hair regularly—but it was the last part of his sentence that surprised him.

Makeup? Ashton knew that Michael would sometimes put eyeliner on his lower waterline, but the way it was worded made Ashton think he meant a little more than just eyeliner this time.

He didn’t push it, though; he just nodded, waited for Michael to finish his food, and then they got up together to walk to Walgreens. It was only a few blocks away, so it didn’t take that long, and as usual, Michael bolted over to the hair and cosmetics section.

It didn’t take long for Michael to meet Ashton back at the registers, but what Michael was holding in his hands surprised Ashton.

He was holding a whole pallet of bright eyeshadows, pale foundation and concealer, cool toned bronzer and contour, mascara, blush, and lipstick. Ashton’s eyebrows raised when he looked over at the products, but he decided not to ask about it.

If Michael had something to tell him.. he could do that on his own time. Ashton wouldn’t force a thing out of him, but he was definitely getting a little suspicious. Of course, Michael could’ve just been exploring self expression, but the way he looked so excited to be holding said products..

Well, Ashton definitely had some suspicions.

—-

Michael was playing a makeup tutorial on his phone while he waited for the hair dye to process in his previously blonde hair. Ashton was laying on the bathroom floor, mindlessly tapping away on his phone. Michael followed the tutorial perfectly, blending everything together with brushes instead of beauty blenders, and he was already very into this.

He originally didn’t think that makeup was going to be something that he was going to be able to pick up and get a hang of, but this tutorial was so easy to follow; he wasn’t having any trouble at all. He thought he’d freak out when he had to put that mascara so close to his eyeball, but he didn’t even flinch once.

It took him about 30 minutes to perfect the look he wanted, and by that time, his hair had finished processing. Michael washed the dye out in the shower by the sink, dried it, and styled it. He got Ashton’s attention by gently kicking at his leg, and when Ashton looked up at Michael, his eyes sparkled with something he’d never felt before.

Ashton sat his phone down, sitting up on the tile floor. He stared at Michael for a few seconds, causing the younger to flush slightly.

“You don’t like it?” Michael asked, frowning slightly.

“Don’t like it? Mikey, love, you look so pretty. I love it. I love you.” Ashton replied, eyes sparkling. He had never used the word pretty on Mike before, but the pink hair and matching makeup?

He wasn’t sure there was any other word to describe how Michael looked right now. Maybe gorgeous, stunning, perfect.

Michael smiled wide, his perfect canine teeth peaking through. He’d never been called pretty before, but coming from Ashton? He couldn’t help but feel like the word was made for him.

“Thanks..” Michael started, nervously rubbing his arm, “I kinda fucked up on the wings, but—”

Michael didn’t get a chance to finish nitpicking the work he’d done on himself because Ashton had gotten off the floor and pressed his lips against Michael’s lightly painted ones. Sure, Ashton got pink smudged on his lips, but this was Michael Clifford, his boyfriend of basically forever, that he was kissing; he couldn’t care less about what he was getting on himself.

“Shut the hell up, Mike. You’re stunning. I didn’t even notice that they were uneven.” Ashton muttered against Michael’s lips, one of his hands running through the freshly dyed hair.

Michael didn’t let himself talk back, Ashton would probably lecture him to hell if he did. He just kissed back and let Ashton mutter on about how pretty he was, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Michael actually let himself believe what Ashton was saying.

—-

Michael and Ashton were laying together on their shared bed, Michael mindlessly playing a video game on his phone, and Ashton scrolling through instagram reels.

Michael didn’t have the volume up on his phone, so he was audibly tuned into whatever Ashton had on his feed. Everything was normal, until Michael heard a familiar feminine voice coming from Ashton’s phone.

He tensed up immediately—that was one of his Overwatch clips off of one of his streams, his pitched up voice, that is. Michael knew it wasn’t odd that Ashton was getting one of his videos on his feed, he was a pretty popular Overwatch streamer, after all.

People mainly liked to watch him for who he mained: D.Va, Juno, and Tracer. He was really good with Juno, learning how to use her as soon as she came out, so a lot of people watched him for tips.

He had an aggressive style with D.Va, middle ground with Tracer, and a softer style for Juno. Ashton also played Overwatch every now and then when he had free time, so it wasn’t weird how he’d probably have that type of content on his feed.

The only thing that really worried Michael—would Ashton pay too much attention to the gaming style and figure out that this was him just from this video?

Ashton was very observant, so of course, being someone who was trying to get better at Overwatch himself, he paid far too much attention to the gaming style.

Ashton glanced over in Michael’s direction. He was still playing a game on his phone, but Ash noticed immediately that he seemed tense, like something was bothering him. It made Ashton raise an eyebrow, and he slowly started putting two and two together.

“Mike?” Ashton asked, keeping his eyes on Michael as the instagram video still played.

Michael let out a small breath. He wasn’t the best at keeping poker faces, but he’d try his best—he knew what was coming.

“Yes, love?” He responded, cocking his head to make eye contact with Ashton, making sure that his facial expression stayed neutral.

“Have you ever heard of CliffedTracer?” Ashton wouldn’t force anything out of Michael, he just wanted to see what he’d say. CliffedTracer was a huge streamer, more than 2 million followers, and it would be really weird for Michael, someone who plays Overwatch every day, to not know this name.

Michael furrowed his eyebrows, thinking for a second. “I’ve heard of her, yeah. Why do you ask?”

“I was just watching one of her clips, and I noticed that you and her have really similar gaming styles.”

Michael swallowed hard. Sure, their styles were similar but that didn’t really mean anything. A lot of people had similar styles throughout their mains.

“Yeah? I mean, she’s usually the person I’ll watch for gaming tips, so that’s probably why.” He responded, making sure his voice didn’t shake. He was getting nervous, and he begged that Ashton would just drop whatever this was and they could cuddle and go to sleep.

“Tips? Mikey, she literally has the exact same style as you with each of her mains, and you know what’s funny? She started streaming right around the same time you did.” Ashton narrowed his eyes. He usually never got mad at Michael, but he was just lying to his face for no reason.

Why would Ashton ever be upset that Michael streamed with a female model? Had he ever made Michael feel like he would judge him over something as small as gender identity? He didn’t think so, but he felt bad either way.

Michael frowned at Ashton’s words, crossing his arms to his chest and rolling his eyes. “A lot of people start streaming around the same time. Why the hell would I pretend to be a girl on the internet? That’s stupid, Ashton. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? I’m being ridiculous, Michael? Are you hearing yourself? You’re lying to my face about something so small, and you’re not doing it that well. The hair dye, the makeup, and now this? You’re hiding from me, and I don’t know why. If I have ever done anything to make you think that you can’t talk to me about shit like this, i’m sorry.”

Ashton was losing his patience. he just wanted Michael to be honest with him. All the evidence pointed to one thing: this streamer was Michael in disguise. He just didn’t understand why Michael couldn’t admit to that.

“You’re wrong, Ashton. I’m not lying to you. I’m not her, I don’t even know how that would make sense. I’m not even on her gaming level! You’re jumping to conclusions.” Michael huffed, turning away from Ashton and lying down on the bed.

That was the last straw for Ashton. Michael was going to deny the truth straight to his face and then turn away from him? Fine.

Ashton got off of the bed, grabbing his jacket off the floor. Michaels eyes followed his movements, panic suddenly setting it. Ashton put his jacket on and stormed out of the house angrily without even looking back at Michael.

Shit.

Michael suddenly couldn’t breathe properly. He sat up quickly in the bed, holding his arms tight to his chest. He didn’t realise he had an anxious attachment style until just now. Tears welled up in his eyes—was Ashton really going to leave him over this?

Michael didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but obviously, Ashton thought otherwise.

Michael couldn’t follow after Ashton, no way. He’d come back. He had to, right? Michael didn’t even register tears starting to pour out of his eyes, and he didn’t register falling asleep soon after.

He woke up to an empty bed, usual, but he started panicking all over again when he remembered what had happened the previous night. He couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed, not even to stream, and he streamed everyday. He started crying again, and before he knew it, he was back asleep.

He woke up later in the day, around the time Ashton would be home, but he wasn’t there. Michaels lack of getting up was finally getting to him, and he needed water and food.

He got up, feeling dizzy, and went over to get a glass of water. He downed the whole glass in one sip, and as soon as it was in his system, he collapsed on the kitchen floor, hugging his knees to himself and starting to cry all over again. He didn’t register falling asleep that time either.

He woke up the next day, still on the floor. That meant that Ashton didn’t come home last night, either, because if he did, he’d set his anger aside and at least place Michael in bed. Michael sniffled. If he knew that hiding something as small as how he streamed would ruin him and Ashton, he would’ve told Ashton immediately.

He couldn’t take much more of this. With his knees up to his chest and his face buried in his knees, he didn’t register the sound of the front door lock clicking. He didn’t register footsteps walking towards the kitchen, or the panicked voice calling out his name.

—-

Ashton had finally decided to come home, three grocery bags in his hands full of food and other necessities. He didn’t expect to find Michael curled up on the kitchen floor, sobbing his eyes out. He knew it was wrong to leave Michael alone for so long, but he did it thinking that Mike would be able to go at least a day without him.

He was wrong, very, obviously wrong.

Ashton set the bags down on the table and rushed to Michael, shaking him awake. His face was full of concern. Michael looked paler than usual, his eyes were sunken in, and his hair was a little matted from lack of shower.

Ashton bit down on his lip, grabbing a cup of water and placing it in Michael’s hands. He drank it all in one gulp, Ashton filled the glass up again. Michael went through three whole glasses of water before looking at least a little able to function again.

Ashton gave Michael a sandwich he had picked up from the floor and watched him eat it like he hadn’t eaten in days—which he hadn’t.

When Michael finally looked like he wasn’t death’s reincarnation, he looked up into Ashton’s eyes, tears threatening to fall again.

Ashton places his hands on Michael’s cheeks, rubbing the skin underneath his thumbs before placing a gentle kiss to Michael’s lips. Michael kissed back weakly, one of his hands managing to grip at Ashton’s forearm.

“I’m so sorry, Mikey.. I shouldn’t have left you like that.” Ashton started, muttering against Michael’s lips.

Michael pulled away and shook his head, looking down at the tile ground in shame. “No, I should’ve been honest with you, but I was just so scared..”

Ashton let Michael explain in a ramble.

“It just— I don’t know. I guess I just felt more like me when I was her, and the thought of that scared me. I’ve been insecure about myself my whole life. My sisters would practice makeup on me, and i’d enjoy it. I always played as girl characters in video games, and I always ended up seeing myself in them in a way. I just.. I thought you’d might see me differently because of that. I don’t.. i don’t really know if I want to be a boy.”

Ashton listened as Michael hesitated and stuttered through his words. See Michael differently? He’d never do that. All this information was doing to Ashton was making him feel more in love. He understood the way Michael felt—not fully—and he loved him so much more for it.

“Michael, baby, I love you so much. Something like this would never change the way I see you. I love you for you, not because of the way you identify or the way you look. I fell in love with you because you know how to make me laugh, you know how to brighten up a room just by walking into it. You know all the secret ways to pull me out of the darkness. None of that could change because you identify differently, and i’d never think you’re weird for wanting to identify differently.”

Ashton’s voice dripped pure honesty, pure love. He’d be caught dead before he was caught loving Michael conditionally. Michael teared up on instinct, falling limp into Ashton’s arms.

Ashton held him tight, running his fingers through Michael’s beautiful hair. “You’re so perfect to me, Mikey, I hope you know that.” He muttered out, pressing a small kiss to Michael’s head.

Michael just hummed in response, he was too busy trying not to sob again to form a real response. He appreciated Ashton so much, and he was so glad that he was in love with someone like him. He wouldn’t trade this kind of love for the world.

“I love you more.”

“Impossible, i’m the one sitting on the dirty floor holding you.”

“..Whatever.”

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

do u think u ever get clocked as gay at the gym

Ill never forget the time I went to the gym in la and apparently was getting stared at like the entire time and I didnt even notice until i was told later.

So yeah probably

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

Dont think thats why they were staring

[mawofthemagnetar]

What do you mean “chat” is now referring to ChatGPT and not twitch chat? What? What? What the fuck? No?

When I address chat I am speaking to a presumed Greek chorus of real human people shitposting on their lunch break, not a machine that devours lakes to covert electricity into slop.

[jellyfish-confetti]

Happy Valentines day everyone! I hope you all have a lovely day! Kisses and smooches

[sp0o0kylights]

"Valentines Day is a capitalistic scam made to sell chocolate and flowers!" Eddie Munson bellowed, leaping to the top of a cafeteria table not even ten minutes into lunch. 

"Do you think he was born like this, or just dropped on his head as a baby?" Heather asked, rolling her eyes as the super senior began waving his arms around, getting way too into  his annual “anti-valentines day” rant. 

Steve, who'd tuned out the dramatics in favor of trying to figure out how he could ditch school, only heard her because she’d begun running her foot up his leg.

Directly in front of Patrick.

As if half the school didn’t know he planned on asking her out after school. 

Long over being a part of these kinds of games, Steve kicked out, forcing Heather’s leg off his. 

He did it harder than he intended and immediately winced, as  if he hadn’t meant to do it at all. Aimed a sad little look at her, softening his eyes in the way he knew ladies loved while murmuring a quiet "sorry.” 

A pudding cup was offered as an additional apology--which Heather, thankfully, accepted. 

Crisis averted, Steve used the movement of handing the cup over to get his legs well out of Heather's range. He had other things to think about today, and getting drawn into whatever drama Heather was trying to brew wasn’t on the list. 

Particularly given the basketball team as a unit had started snubbing him out. 

"Newsflash ladies! Your man isn't taking you to some shitty restaurant because he loves you, he's doing it because he hopes you'll give it to him in your car!" Munson continued, voice growing impossibly louder. 

A crude gesture followed, involving hip thrusts and hand jabs.

 Several of the cheerleaders shot him disgusted looks as he did it. 

"Definitely dropped on his head." Carol said, glaring at Munson as his little group of freaks and geeks cheered him. "More than once." 

Steve hummed an agreement, more on automatic than from actually listening. He knew how to look like he was paying attention, even if his head was deep in possible escape plans. 

If he dipped at the last minute to the bathroom on the way to fifth period, Tommy wouldn't have time to stop him and he could make a break for his car…

That just left making up a plausible enough excuse as to why thee Steve Harrington, whose single status was the current hot topic of the school, left school early on Valentines Day. 

("Candy, sex, the overwhelming affection of all the ladies." Tommy drawled out that morning, practically preening. "Valentine's Day is the best holiday man. Just look at all this!"  

He waved a hand at his locker, which was absolutely covered in paper hearts. 

"The rally squad put hearts on the lockers of everyone on the basketball team, Tommy." Carol argued, rolling her eyes. "Steve’s is practically buried in them.”

Tommy opened his mouth to respond, no doubt with something else teasing and rude, but Carol’s elbow caught him in the gut first. 

“If you keep acting like this you're not getting any sex." She warned. 

"Aww baby, don't be like that. You know you're the only one for me." Tommy teased, with a wink that prompted Carol to smack him on the shoulder.

Laughing, he added: "Besides we can't fight or we'll miss our favorite game. Which poor gal thinks this year is the year Steve will take her out on a date!"

Carol allowed Tommy to put an arm over her shoulder, the two of them turning knowing grins on their friend as a singular unit. 

Even if Steve hadn’t felt like their friend in a hot minute. 

Not in the way he used to. 

"I do love watching them stutter through their little confessions.” Carol admitted, like this wasn’t something they’d loved doing since middle school. “I wonder if anyone will ever top Cindy Komer." 

Steve almost wasn't fast enough to cover his wince--that particular incident had been painful for him and Cindy. 

Steve still had no idea what he'd said to make the then-freshman cry. 

He thought he'd been nice about turning her down, but judging by Carol constantly quoting what he'd said, Steve had a feeling he'd accidentally been an asshole again.

Not that anyone ever thought it was accidental. 

“Steve? Hel~lo? Are you listening?” Carol said, snapping to get his attention and God did Steve hate that.

Never realized just how much until Nancy but after she’d pointed out that Carol treated him and Tommy both like her dogs, well. 

It was hard not to notice--and be a bit resentful. 

“God you keep doing this, you’re turning into such a space case.” Carol continued, the edge back in her voice. The same one she’d been using for a while, like Steve was on her last nerve. “Please tell me you’re not still mooning over Nancy fucking Wheeler.” 

“No.” He snapped, only to know instantly that was the wrong move, and try to fix it before Carol blew up. “No--I’ve just already had to fend someone off today. Like first thing--I was barely out of my car.”

There, that should keep Carol and Tommy both off his back for being “angry” and it wasn’t even a lie. He really had been asked out earlier, though the girl had been gracious about his rejection.  

Of course, this kind of instant redirection came with a price--and in this case, it was being absolutely hounded for more information. 

“Oh shit who!? Was it that Buckley girl?” Carol perked up immediately, like a hunting dog scenting prey. “I swear she stares holes in your head, she’s so weird…” )  

"This isn't about romance! It's about showing who has the most cash, gets the most sex! It's a pathetic social ritual you're all falling for!” Munson yelled, jolting Steve back into the present.  “I bet none of you even enjoy it!” 

"Tell that to all the girls Steve’s dated!” One of the younger basketball guys hollered, prompting a wave of laughter from the rest of the cafeteria. “They seem to enjoy it plenty!”

Steve couldn’t see who had said it, and should have felt the normal wave of smug warmth that the team had his back.  

Except his team had already proven they didn’t. 

Were in fact, siding more and more with Hargrove, just as Tommy was. 

They were rapidly approaching a watershed moment. Steve could feel it, the same way he’d always been able to tell when a crowd was about to turn.

He was losing, but was still on top of Hawkins social spaces enough, had caught it early enough, that he could turn everyone’s favor--if he wanted. 

Emphasis on ‘if.’ 

Munson spun to face his table, hair whipping to smack him in the face. The guy had clearly been trying to grow it out, but right now he looked like one of those poodles Carol's mom loved so much. 

So said Carol, anyway. 

"You sure about that?" Munson challenged, a crazed grin breaking across his face. "Rumor has it King Steve lost his groove ever since Wheeler dumped him!" 

Steve grimaced, though he was secretly thankful Munson went with "dumped" instead of "cheated on" (or any of the other vile words Billy had flung around, spreading across the school in the sick, crawling way rumors moved. 

Hargrove had been positively brutal about the whole Jonathan and Nancy thing, and the only reason he wasn't here now to spin this whole situation against Steve was because the guy always vanished at lunch.)

Tommy's face morphed into an affronted snarl, hands slapping down on the table. He turned expectantly to Steve, waiting for "The King" to get up and "handle" Munson.

Like Steve even cared about this dumb high school shit anymore. 

It took him a moment to realize Steve wasn’t planning on doing anything. Was in fact, going to remain perfectly quiet, other than an eyeroll and half-assed middle finger in Munson’s direction. 

Tommy let out a disgusted scoff in his direction and then decided to handle things himself. 

(Like that had ever been a good idea.)

“Shut up, Freak. The only game you have is in the prison showers.” He snapped, half rising from the table. “Isn’t that why you keep your hair long? So all the boys will actually fuck you?!” 

Whistles and yells lit the air, though Steve didn’t miss how the girls at the table looked taken aback at the sheer vitriol in Tommy’s voice. 

Even Carol looked startled, eyes sliding to meet Steve’s as if to confirm she hadn’t just imagined it. 

The three of them had always been good at this kind of mindless high school banter, but this over the top, crude shit? 

It wasn’t Tommy’s style.

It was Hargrove’s.

(That was its own growing issue. 

The way Tommy was gravitating towards Billy. 

How Carol kept expecting Steve to act like he used to. 

That she blamed his “outbursts” on Nancy, snidely mentioning that Steve had better have learned his lesson about “changing his personality for pussy.” 

Even now Steve knew they were only defending him because Munson was the one saying it.) 

“I didn’t realize Harrington still had his attack dog!” 

Munson put a hand against his heart as though injured, staggering dramatically backwards. 

“I thought you were too busy putting your tongue up Hargrove’s ass to bark at people!” 

Tommy immediately fired back, letting loose an uninspired string of curse words and something about Eddie being queer again. Steve didn’t hear the specifics--didn’t care to hear it, even as things started to spiral out of control. 

All he wanted to do was go home. 

Ideally before Billy got back from lunch and decided to make a spectacle himself, because Steve could feel that coming just as he could everything else. 

He was running out of time to come up with an excuse to get out of here without making a production out of it, and Munson wasn’t someone he wanted to piss off today, given he’d half hoped to buy weed off the guy before he ditched.

…Which was looking more and more unlikely given Tommy had just screeched some insult that had put Munson’s sights back on Steve. 

“You sure? Cause Harrington looks like he’s just gonna sit there and take it, just like he takes everything Hargrove and Wheeler and anyone else throws at him.”

He leered, leaning forward as if to see into Steve’s very soul. 

“I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but our beloved King here hasn’t exactly been defending his crown. If anything, he’s abandoned it.” 

The world stopped. 

This was the first time someone actually called him out on the fact that he often let whatever crap Billy spewed go. That Nancy and him had a few awkward encounters publicly, with at least one of them starting a rumor that she’d told Steve to fuck off. 

(She hadn’t of course, but Carol had stopped running damage control, and Steve was feeling the effects of her ire.) 

Silence echoed, and Steve realized with a dawning sort of horror, that Munson was waiting for a response from him. 

Just as the entire cafeteria was. 

The catalyst was here, brought on early by one Edward Munson. 

With a startling amount of clarity, Steve realized he was done. 

With his so called friends, with  the girls who’d tried corning him all morning, with Hargrove and just--everything. 

He was over it. 

If Billy wanted the crown so bad he could fucking have it. 

(If Tommy wanted to pretend he was tougher than he was by mimicking the dick, then he could have that too.) 

“This is stupid.” Steve announced, dropping the masks he so carefully wore. The ones he kept having to fix, because the Upside Down and its related demons (human and non) kept taking chunks out of it. 

He stood, feeling the weight of the room press down on him as he faced them all down. 

“Yeah--!” Tommy started to pile on, seeming to think Steve was about to unleash hell, and got the surprise of a lifetime when Steve turned and jammed a finger in his face.

“Shut up.” He snapped. 

Knew instantly he only got away with it by the fact that he’d caught everyone off guard.  

King Steve did a lot of things, but he rarely blew up. 

“This is stupid.” He reiterated, voice booming across the lunch room, “ You wanna fight? Fine, but leave me out of it.”  

“The King doesn’t want to play? Why I never thought we’d see the day!” Munson clucked his tongue, and without missing a beat Steve turned to him. 

 “For someone who is always screaming about nonconformity, you sure are happy to attack anyone who doesn’t do what you want.”

Steve’s voice was loud, but he wasn’t screaming. Wasn’t yelling or throwing his arms around.

He didn’t need to. Had never needed to. 

“I heard you going off on that guy whose lunch you're standing on yesterday, because he wanted to watch the Colts play.” Steve continued, voice cold. “Half of your friends are terrified of you, because you’ll scream at them just like you accuse us of doing--and let’s be real here, Munson, you do it more.”

In a dramatic move that absolutely, 100% came from Dustin and his theatrics, Steve shrugged his letterman jacket off and bunched it into a ball. 

“You might as well crown yourself King, because you’re the exact same as the rest of us. Here--you can start with this.”  

Cocking back an arm, Steve let the jacket fly. Watched with everyone else as it  landed neatly right at Eddie’s feet. 

Shell shocked, Munson’s eyes drifted from Steve down to the letterman jacket and back. They were massive, those stupid eyes of his, but at least it meant Steve could see the realization wash over the guy in real time. 

Steve should have felt smug about it. His past self would have.

Presently? 

He just felt tired. 

“You’re welcome to jam it up your ass.” He finished, before giving his own sarcastic half bow to the room.  

The cafeteria was dead silent. Not a fork was scraped, or a loud piece of chip chewed. All eyes were on Steve, some waiting to see if Eddie would let him have the last word, others just  shocked to see Steve lose his shit in front of them. 

Idiot he was, he tried to rally anyway. 

Even Tommy, who’d partly stood up, hands pressed against the lunch table looked shocked.

“What the fuck Steve!?” He sputtered, and it wasn’t long before half the basketball team was muttering similar remarks. 

They were ignored. 

Whispers ripped across the room when Steve turned on his heel, striding towards the exit and making it clear things were over, but Tommy didn’t give up. 

“Fuck you Harrington!” He hurled at his back, Carol now standing and placing a restraining hand on his arm.  “You’re not fucking better than any of us!” 

Steve didn’t even look back. 

"That's my point Tommy." Steve said, loud enough to be heard. "No one is better than anyone else. You lot are all just buying into your own bullshit.” 

Then he was slamming through the doors, and out into the sunlight. 

xXx

He didn’t want to go home.

Not anymore, which was ironic in a way that made Steve’s face screw up in a grimace.  

Here he’d been dying to go to his stupid house all day, and now, after losing his shit and undoubtedly, the last of his social standing, he just didn’t feel like being by himself.

All alone, in a house too big for him, full of nothing but dark corners and a phone that never rang. 

So instead, he wandered, reminiscing on how Valentine's Day used to be his favorite day of the year. 

Steve loved the gesture of it all--the romance, the wooing. The butterflies floating in one's stomach, mixing with fear of rejection and a burning kind of hope towards starting something new. 

Of course, Steve also had always had a girl in mind, when he celebrated. Now, after Nancy…

He did not.

It felt weird to go to Skull Rock--the place he himself had made into Hawkins hottest makeout spots. Likewise all the local restaurants were off limits--too many adults knew how much he loved the holiday. 

Steve didn’t want to face that. The expectations, the knowing winks that would slide into uncomfortable frowns. Any possible advice given wouldn’t be appreciated, and the last thing Steve wanted was to get the “everyone has an off season, son” speech. 

So he’d stayed away from his usual haunts. Explored some storefronts instead, the Beamer parked in front of Family Video as he wandered. 

Had an entirely too peaceful two hours, which of course, meant he had to bump into someone.

At least, Steve thought dully, whole body tensing in preparation, it was Munson. 

Not Hargrove, or Tommy, or hell--the children, demanding he help them fight some other fucked up creature the government had accidentally summoned. 

“Hey Harrington.” Munson said, and it took a moment for Steve to realize the guy was embarrassed. “I uh, I need to talk to you.” 

Steve just stared at him.

“If you couldn’t tell from earlier,” He warned, “I’m a little done talking for today.” 

Or any day, for the foreseeable future. 

“Yeah no--I, I got that.  I--okay.” Eddie stopped rocking on his heels, before giving his entire body a shake, like the guys sometimes did while prepping for a game. “Hear me out, and then you can deck me or leave or whatever makes you feel better.” 

“I’m not going to deck you.” Steve said, exasperated and frazzled and not wanting to do this whole song and dance a second time. 

Not that it mattered, because Munson had already launched right into whatever it was he needed to say. 

“There’s this book right? My Uncle got it for me. It’s a fantasy book all about this big battle and there’s these wizards in it, and--” He stopped himself, shaking out his hands.

Like he realized he was rambling and needed the movement to get himself back on track. 

“I always--I guess I saw myself as a Gandalf kinda guy? Like I was this shepherd herding these lost sheep. A person who intimately knew all the dark forces of the world and could be a shield for them. Do not pass and all that.” 

He chuckled, but it was weak, and he killed it almost immediately. 

“...Okay?” Steve said, knowing he was supposed to say something here, even if he had no idea what. 

Maybe something about how Gandalf the Grey wasn’t exactly a shepard given he’d led the hobbits straight into Mordor, but saying that meant admitting Steve knew what Lord of the Rings was, which wasn’t a conversation he felt like getting into. 

Particularly not because he’d only read the damn things after losing a bet to Dustin and Mike both. 

Munson nodded, as if acknowledgement was all he needed. 

 “I thought that’s what I was doing. I wasn’t and I didn’t realize I wasn’t until you pointed it out. You shouldn’t have had to point it out. You shouldn’t have had to say any of what you did.” He rushed to add, oddly sincere. 

"Is this…" Steve might be confused but catching on, an uptick at the corners of his mouth as the tiniest spark of amusement leaked through. "an apology? Are you trying to apologize right now?"

Eddie groaned, flinging his head back. "No!” 

Then immediately; 

“Actually yes, but--”  

Which caught Steve off guard enough that he laughed, and had to hide it with a cough. 

“I am sorry, man. I shouldn’t have said that shit about you, especially not about you and Wheeler. It's more than that though.” Munson swallowed, before squaring his shoulders. “It’s that you were right." 

“I was right?” Steve repeated dumbly, because fuck, he couldn’t believe it either. 

Not that Munson heard him. Eddie always had been hard to stop once he started, and Steve had been in enough classes with the guy to know the train had left the station. 

"I did yell at Jeff because he wanted to watch that stupid football game.” He began, and Steve got a front row seat to watch as one Eddie Munson word vomited his way through a myriad of emotions. 

“I fuckin’ lost it on Grant because he missed band practice to drive his sister to some thing. Gareth looked like I was going to hit him when I asked if I had really been that bad--same exact look he gave Hagan and those other assholes that cornered him in the bathroom two weeks ago!” 

“Tommy did what?” 

Steve was promptly ignored. 

(Or more likely, Eddie simply didn’t hear him, too lost in his own voice to realize Steve had said something.) 

There were a lot of mentions of the Gandalf guy. Where Eddie thought he’d gone wrong, and even something about a glowing eye thing that had Steve a little concerned until he realized Munson was talking about Sauron (and also made Steve realize that he’d been pronouncing Sauron in his head wrong, oops.) 

“I called up this friend of mine who graduated. She’s always been no nonsense, so I asked her for her advice.” Munson said, finally seeming to slow down a little. “She told me I might as well eat my own doctrine because I sure wasn’t living by it, and that if I wanted to fix it then I should start by apologizing. To everyone but--to you, first.” 

Eddie took a step back, winging out his hands as if to present himself. 

“So here I am. Apologizing.” 

A pause wherein neither of them did a thing, which caused him to awkwardly add; “To uh, you. Harrington.” 

“Yeah I got that.” Steve said, because what else was he supposed to do here? “Good for you? I guess?”

“Most people either forgive a guy or tell him to fuck off.”  Munson pouted, and mimicked like he was kicking at a rock. 

It made Steve want to laugh again, though he shoved the urge down. 

“Someone once told me,” He said instead, speaking slowly to make damn sure he didn’t let slip this piece of advice came from a middle schooler. “that apologies without actions don’t really mean anything. They’re a start--they let people know you’re aware you screwed up, but no one’s going to trust you if you don’t follow through. So I can forgive you, but I think you’re better off doing this with one of your friends.” 

Someone who would hug it out, or at least tell Eddie how he could be better, at least. 

Rather than argue, Munson just titled his head back, eyes to the sky. Like he was really thinking on the words, before giving a sort of accepting sounding noise.  

“Trying too.” Steve admitted with a sigh. 

“That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?” He asked, head coming back down so he could stare at Steve.

“The thing in the cafeteria was a good start.” 

“Yeah?” 

Eddie grinned. 

“Yeah. Don’t think Hagan’s gonna see it the same way though.” 

“We were falling out anyway.” Steve admitted, and hated how easy it was to say.

That they really were just going through the motions of friendship. Had been, ever since Jonathan had punched Steve in the face. 

“Think you lost more than just him as a friend, to be honest.”  

“Pro tip about the actions thing, Munson?” Steve said with a snort, once again unsure of where this conversation was going, “Nice people don’t typically point out when someone’s turned into a social pariah.” 

“No, I get that. Say,” Eddie’s grin had grown, which Steve would have taken poorly except he invaded Steve’s space with a goofy little hop. “I think you might be in need of some new ones!” 

“New…friends?” Steve hesitated, very unsure of what was happening. 

Munson promptly stuck his hand out. “Yup! So--hello, my name is Eddie Munson, and I am here to apply for the position as your friend!” 

Steve snorted, but the harshness of it was taken away by the grin on his face. 

He took Eddie’s hand, noting how doing so made the older teen’s smile widen. 

“Nice to meet you Eddie, I’m Steve.” 

Excited, Eddie waived their arms up and down, with far more enthusiasm than the gesture required. 

“How about we cement our new friendship by renting a truly terrible horror movie and drowning our woes with my other good friend, Mary Jane?” 

Then he waggled his eyebrows, like that was something scandalous. 

“Tempting me along with weed, huh?” Steve mused back, sticking his hands in his pockets once Eddie let him go. “Guess you’re a little like Gandalf the Gray after all. Just don’t send me on any missions.” 

“Steve Harrington.” Eddie gaped, pure delight spreading across his face. “Have you read Lord of the Rings!?” 

He got a shrug and a sly; “Maybe.” in response. 

It was worth the barrage of questions, even if the rapid fire pace of them nearly gave Steve a headache.

(Just as it was worth it several months later, when Steve was comfortable enough to instigate wrestling matches with Eddie over the dumbest of things. 

One particularly semi-drunk tussle over the remote led to an interesting discovery when Eddie popped a boner, and then frantically tried to escape when it brushed against Steve’s leg. 

 Instead of panicking--or letting Eddie bolt in his panic, Steve just dropped his whole weight down, effectively pinning the slimmer man to the floor. 

“Steve.”

Eddie said it so quietly he almost didn’t hear it, the word filled with desperation.

The kind of tone someone whispered a prayer in, a sort of pleading that Eddie did better with his eyes than his voice. Or would have, given his own were firmly scrunched closed the second he realized he’d been caught out. 

Except--

“Not right now I’m thinking.”  Steve told him absently. 

Which he was. Speed thinking even, if that was a thing. 

Because if two plus two equaled four (which it did) then feeling the exact same, fluttering excitement about Eddie’s boner as Steve had Nancy’s breasts, equaled…

“The fuck? Steve--”

Steve shushed him. 

That pulled a frustrated, embarrassed groan from Eddie that went directly to Steve’s own dick, not that it needed much help waking up. 

“I think I’m having one of those crisis’s Robin is always accusing the basketball team of having.” Steve informed Eddie dutifully, the dots done connecting.

Eddie, still refusing to open his eyes, snorted. 

“Whatever man. Can you at least be decent and hurry up with the beating? This is embarrassing enough.” 

“I’m not going to beat you up.” Steve said, thankful that his brain managed not to add some shitty comment about the entire town being awash in rumors of Eddie’s sexuality. That he’d confirmed it here wasn’t exactly a surprise. 

“I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it, let me know.” Streve added, before screwing up his courage and leaning down.

That of course, got Eddie to open his eyes.

“Wha--” He managed, before Steve’s lips were on his. 

For one single, blissful moment, Eddie Munson’s mouth was too busy to talk. 

“Yeah?” Eddie said, voice wrecked, and oh, Steve liked that. 

“Huh.” Steve muttered, when they broke for air. “Well that’s new.”

Liked the way Eddie looked at him more, hesitant, but with heat in his gaze. 

Steve had always been good about knowing what to do with heat. 

He leaned back down, pecking lightly at Eddie’s lips, and was delighted to find Eddie not only let him, but kissed back. 

“Not bad, Munson, but I think I could give you a few pointers.” Steve muttered, nose ghosting alongside Eddie’s. “Let me show you…” 

One boyfriend, several weeks, and another interdimensional monster later, Steve found himself socked in the arm by none other than his coworker, Robin Buckley. 

In her defense, she’d confessed her love for Tammy Thompson, still somewhat drugged on the Starcourt bathroom floor, only for Steve to tease her that at least his boyfriend could actually sing. 

“God you and Eddie Munson.” She muttered after, smile on her face. “How did that happen?” 

Steve knocked his shoe into hers, returning the grin unabashedly. 

“So remember last Valentines Day?” Steve started, all too eager to finally tell someone who understood about the best thing to ever happen to him. 

Robin of course, would soon also be ranked in that same chart, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. ) 

[readyforthegarden]

good morning everyone this is pookie wookie angel bby

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

Sam in red 🥵

[readyforthegarden]

no one say a fuckin word to me rn

[cosmokiszka]

“AH FUCK”

[fitalich]

What happens when a bisexual embryo splits into two?

[gretavanjoshua-deactivated20241]

Alexa play night changes by one direction

[yendts]

some hoo kids✨

used a mix of these refs for funzies

[aroace-boyfriend]

okay i cannot shut up about them

steve being the one average intelligence friend among fucking geniuses (most of which are like fucking 13 year olds / all of which are younger than him) must be so damaging to his self esteem

because he’s only surrounded by child prodigies, a literal genius that’s fluent in several languages, and (probably the valedictorian if she wanted to be) a badass genius journalist, he has no example of what average intelligence is and just assumes he is stupid

which is not helped by the fact that everyone looks down on him/calls him an idiot/expects him to know everything!! so they just enforce this belief that he’s stupid and less than just because he’s not as intelligent as the rest of them

and then along comes eddie munson who failed senior year twice, yet is an amazing storyteller and genius DM, who knows about all these cool things and guess what? dustin looks up to him!

and steve knows dustin isn’t replacing him but dustin thinking he was cool was one of the only things holding his facade together

and then robin is only thinking about vickie and of course steve wants to help and he listens and gives advice, but robin was the only one who was around, who hung out with him, who listened

and max is isolating herself, and lucas has basketball and hellfire, and he doesn’t think nancy would ever want to be friends, so it’s. just him.

and then

and THEN

steve is walking through the upside down with eddie munson, and eddie references something he doesn’t get, and steve expresses his confusion and is prepared to be made fun of- but eddie just. tells him? explains it to him?

and it catches him off guard because no one has done that before, even as King Steve carol would roll her eyes and tommy would laugh whenever he asked them something. whenever he asked questions in class (which was rarely) the teachers told him he should’ve been paying attention but he was- he just didn’t get it

so steve tests it again later on and the same thing happens- even in front of the others, when steve asks a question eddie just tells him without poking fun and it’s… it’s really nice actually

once vecna is defeated and everyone survives (bc fuck you) steve continues to badger eddie with questions, looks to him whenever he doesn’t understand what’s going on and eddie will immediately explain it in a way he can understand

a while after they become good friends, steve just has to ask.

“does it get annoying?”

“…does what get annoying?”

“me asking you about stuff all the time”

but eddie just smiles at him, tells him how he actually loves that steve asks because it means he’s engaged and interested, when eddie is used to people getting bored of his rants/tirades

he tells steve that he loves explaining things to him, loves that he listens and pays attention and steve realizes oh, we’re kind of perfect for each other aren’t we?

he thinks he’s okay with that. especially if eddie keeps smiling at him and telling him about anything and everything he wants to

[hawkinsbnbg]

‪Steve liked to collect the trinkets that Eddie gave him. It was a diverse collection.‬

‪There were old band T-shirt, small rock, button, pin, mini figure, bracelet, pendant, and many other random things that Steve never thought about until Eddie gave them to him.‬

‪Steve wouldn't say it to anyone because it was a little embarrassing but he loved them.‬

‪Loved that Eddie's first thought when looking at them was giving them to Steve.‬

‪Loved that Eddie would surprise him with little gifts every day.‬

‪Loved that Eddie would tell Steve story pieces about each of them.‬

‪Such as that bear figurine was once Eddie's first attempt at sculpting with a pocket knife. That was why it looked kinda crooked and maimed.‬

‪That Metallica T-shirt and pins were bought with his first paycheck.‬

‪That small whale-shaped rock was a rare one and he had picked it up outside Wayne's trailer when he first came live with the man.‬

‪That bracelet was from Eddie's first time attending a small metal concert.‬

‪Or, that flower-shaped button was collected from his first sewing kit.‬

‪Gradually, Steve realized that Eddie always gave him things that were meant to be keepsakes of his first times.‬

‪When he asked, Eddie just shrugged and smiled warmly albeit shyly at him.‬

‪"I trust you to keep them safe for me."‬

‪And Steve did.‬

‪He carefully put them into each box that held their kind and then locked those boxes away in a sturdy chest.‬

‪It also became some sort of a game of between them.‬

‪While Steve memorized what he already had and didn't have yet, Eddie would try to impress him with new trinkets.‬

‪"You already gave me this one," Steve looked at the barb figurine.‬

‪"What about this?" Eddie held up a red dice.‬

‪"It's the same with what I use these days."‬

‪"This one?" Eddie took out a lighter that had a rose carved on it.‬

‪"I have three chests of trinkets, Eddie. And this lighter is sitting in the second one." Steve bit back a smile when Eddie sighed in frustration.‬

‪The metalhead seemed to be at a great distress at not being able to give Steve something new.‬

‪"Hey, don't be upset because there's this thing you haven't given me, yet," Steve gave in his urge to smile fondly as Eddie straightened up eagerly.‬

‪"What is it?"‬

‪Wordlessly, Steve used his pointer finger to tap on his lips.‬

‪Eddie widened his eyes and exhaled softly, "Oh,"‬

‪"Impress me, Munson," was Steve's last words before his lips were locked in a heated kiss.‬

‪Sometime later, they finally parted and their cheeks hurt from smiling too much. ‬

‪Leaning his forehead against Steve's, Eddie whispered, "Hey, would you mind if I give you Eddie Munson?"‬

‪Giggling, Steve pressed a small kiss into Eddie's curved lips, "No, I wouldn't mind."‬

‪Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck as they went back to kissing, it seemed a metalhead had joined his collection now.‬

[wynnyfryd]

paint it black 🎂🖤🎂

written for the @steddiemicrofic bonus round ‘birthday’ + 290 words in honor of @steddieas-shegoes’ birthday | rated M | pure fluff

Steve’s hands are stained black when he greets Eddie at the front door. His nails, his palms. Eddie follows the trail of dark speckles up Steve’s forearms to the smeared streaks on his apron, the smudge at the tip of his nose. It’s all over his mouth, too, like he tried to eat black lipstick.

“You going for a goth look today, baby?”

Steve put his hands on his hips; presses his lips into a flat black pout. “Food dye is a dangerous business.”

“Oh?” God, he loves when Steve gets all grumpy baker boy on him. He wades into Steve’s space, fingers hooking into his belt loops, pulling him flush and planting a soft kiss behind his ear. “So if you’re covered in food dye…” His tongue traces an inky smear on the side of Steve’s neck, “does that mean I get to eat you?”

“Oh, my god,” Steve rolls his eyes and shoves him, a brilliant blush working up the tight set of his jaw. “The kids are about to be here any minute.”

“Mhmm,” Eddie agrees and wiggles his fingers over the lip of Steve’s jeans.

Steve bats his hands away. “So behave!”

“Fiiiiine.” He lets go and throws up a Vulcan salute. “Scout’s honor.”

“Dude,” Steve despairs, covering his face with both hands. “No. Can’t believe I let you fuck me.”

Eddie cackles, and Steve grabs him by the hand and leads him into the kitchen. There, on the counter, stands a homemade birthday cake, made to look like the 20-sided die from Eddie’s favorite set.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes. “You made this for me?”

Steve’s pretty pink blush is all the way up his cheeks now. “Yeah.” Jesus fuck. Eddie might cry. “Happy birthday, baby.”

[hawkinsbnbg]

Being roommates with the former king of Hawkins High was a lot nicer than Eddie thought.

The guy was surprisingly kind, endearing, dorky, and also unfairly attractive.

Though Eddie kind of never outgrew the crush he had on Steve since high school, he wasn't delusional enough to think they had a chance together.

And seeing as Eddie knew nothing would ever come out of it, flirting with Steve had become one of his habits at this point.

That said, when he watched Steve putting on a lip balm, he didn't think twice before running his mouth again.

"New flavor?"

"Yep, Robin just gave me this one yesterday," Steve smacked his lips together, making a pop sound and giving Eddie a hard time concentrating on anything else.

"And you didn't think to give me a taste, sweetheart?" Eddie leaned in closer and raised his brow teasingly.

It should be a bad thing that Eddie wasn't lying. He indeed wanted to taste those lips and he hoped that Steve didn't pick up on the desire that leaked into his words.

On the other hand, Eddie was waiting for Steve to stutter again so he could laugh and they could move on from this weird tension settling between them.

God knew why Eddie had to put himself into this situation countless times and never learned his lesson.

However, he supposed it was because he didn't know how to quit whenever it came to Steve who would always blush deliciously at his poor flirting.

And then, the one thing Eddie never expected to happen happened. He was pulled into a kiss by Steve Harrington.

By the time Eddie was released from that heaven of sweetness, he could only stare at those lush lips dazedly. "Oh, it's strawberry."

"Correct," Steve's lips curved in a pretty smile and Eddie suddenly wanted to taste them again.

Considering Eddie had no brain-to-mouth filter, he just blurted out his thoughts. "Can we go back to kissing?"

"You have no shame, don't you, Munson?" Steve chuckled, eyes twinkling with mirth and something else that gave Eddie hope.

"If it helps me get my lips on yours," Eddie brought his hand up to stroke the side of Steve's face gently. "Then no, I don't need any shame."

"It seems I gotta shut you up lest your mouth runs wild again," Steve whispered before locking his lips with Eddie's once more.

With a lapful of Steve, Eddie realized they might have a chance together after all.

And he just knew strawberries would never be the same to either of them anymore.