This is an event to create something new while we wait for the launch of Stranger Things Season 5.
Hate speech and ship/character bashing are not permitted in this event
What are the prompts?
The prompts are the titles of each episode of each season. Just choose one (or more) and have fun with it! (Find them HERE)
What if someone is using the same prompt I wanted to do?
There is no limit to the amount of fics/arts or other contents that can use the same prompt as inspiration. More cake!
Is there a minimum word count required?
This is a low pressure event, so the minimum word count is 500 words or a sketch but you can go crazy as you like.
When is the posting date?
The formal posting date is November 26th, but since the brothers will keep us waiting the AO3 collection will be open until December 31st.
The mods will do their best to reblog every fic until January 2nd.
(Just a heads-up: the mods are CET-based, so reblogs might come through a little later.)
FAQ
Is there an age limit?
No. This is an event open to everyone, but underage participants can only create & engage in content rated Gen-Teen.
Are there content restrictions?
No. This event is open to all ships and all fan works but please tag your content appropriately and refrain from using Real Life People as characters in your work.
All trigger warnings must be indicated both at the beginning of your post and in the tags.
Any NSFW works posted on Tumblr should be posted hidden under the "read more".
Does that mean dead dove and omegaverse content are allowed?
Yes! We just ask that everything be tagged accurately, and any appropriate warnings be included.
For those unfamiliar, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat is a tag that means “exactly what is written on the bag.” While this does generally include darker, mature and often taboo themes, the meaning is that what is listed in the tags will be in the work. Dead Dove writers are encouraged to participate, as we will not be turning away works for any specific themes. That being said, it is the author’s responsibility to tag works appropriately, and reader’s responsibility to read the tags and be mindful of their own boundaries and triggers.
(beautiful definition offered by @stranger-tales ! Check out their event!)
Can I write ST character/OC or ST character/Reader?
Absolutely! We only kindly ask to have at least one ST character in the main relationship (which can be romantic or platonic).
Please tag your content appropriately.
Can I combine this event with another one?
You’re absolutely free to do it, but please make sure that’s not against the rules of the other event(s) you’re working for.
Where can I post my entries?
You can post wherever you would like!
If you post to Archive of Our Own, add it to the collection (HERE).
If you post it to Tumblr, please tag your post with #LastStopHawkins and @ our account @last-stop-hawkins so we can easily find it and repost it.
Please remember to tag the episode you're using as a prompt (for example if it's the first season first episode tag #s1ep1) and every trigger warning!
Read between the lines (on ao3 here)
Rated G, 4108 words
Relationships: Will Byers & Billy Hargrove; background Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Characters: Will Byers, Billy Hargrove, the party, Joyce Byers, Steve Harrington
Tags: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies; Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Developing Friendships; artist and writer Will Byers; Gay Will Byers; Writer Billy Hargrove; Gay Billy Hargrove; Writer's Block; pretty inaccurate pubblication timelines; the author doesn't regret them; Season 5? I don't know what that is; POV Will Byers; Billy Hargrove is Not Okay
Summary: Will has writer's block and decides to go ask Billy Hargrove for tips and help, since apparently Hargrove is the author of several books Will has read and loved.
It changes their lives.
This was born from my opinions connected to this poll (thanks, @shieldofiron for the original poll! <3) and written for the @last-stop-hawkins event. I'm late as hell, but I did it, woohoo!
Thanks to my beta @dragonflylady77 for the reading and the joking, love you, bestie!
Again, you can read the story here on ao3, I hope you have fun with the Gay Williams being writers together :P
@stmonstercalendar : demogorgon
@last-stop-hawkins: "The Monster"
@steddiebingo: Hawkins Lab
Thanks to @stevesjockstrap for brainstorming with me, and thanks @safk-art for designing such cool demo!Steve <3
M | 4040 | Steddie, Eddie&Ronnie | post season 1, pre-relationship, probably a two parter, different first meeting, demo!Steve, monsterfucker Eddie Munson
read full on ao3
"Check this out."
Eddie takes a few gulps of the stale air, thumps at his chest, and lets out a loud belch. The sound echoes through empty hallways and his friends cheer in delight. He bows down, miraculously not spilling any of his beer.
"Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all night!"
Or until their stash lasts, at least, which should give them enough time to explore. Because for their farewell party, Eddie's graduating friends decided to sneak into the old lab. The place stood forgotten for years in a lot carved out in the local forest, the road leading to it already overgrown and easy to overlook. With how huge the place was, Eddie's been surprised nobody is talking about it anymore.
"This is weird," he had said, passing his joint over to Ronnie. The looming building looked... wrong.
"A shady abandoned government lab? No way," one of his friends snickers. Eddie rolls his eyes.
"Duh. I mean it's weirdly... nice looking. Are you sure there aren't cameras?" He's found out about the growing popularity of surveillance cameras the hard way. Surely a government facility could afford those.
"For an abandoned building? Come on," the same guy scoffs, making Eddie wince. He decides to shut his mouth lest he loses his place in the group. He's already the odd one out being a grade below.
"Eddie's kinda right, though. There's no graffiti and the windows are intact," Ronnie points out. "And this has been sitting here empty for decades."
"Maybe we're the first ones here," Rick rubs his hands excitedly.
"Yeah, I doubt that."
"Well, maybe not everyone's into petty vandalism."
"Did I bring the paint spray for nothing?"
Rick scoffs, kicking at the wire fence in search of an entry point. "I'm not doing arts and crafts, man, I'm here to get drunk in a creepy building."
That they could all agree on. It was the tale of a forgotten laboratory that brought their curious teenage asses up to this point, armed with a crowbar, a bolt cutter, and a crate of beers.
Which brings them to now, exploring the abandoned rooms with only the setting Sun illuminating the inside of the building. The deeper they go, the less windows there are, the doors get heavier and the corridors narrower. It's a delightful nightmare fuel and it gets even better when they find a staircase.
"Oh, hell yeah." Rick grins upon pushing open the door. "Wanna see how deep it goes? I bet the best shit happens underground."
"You mean the worst shit."
"Duh. Maybe we'll find an autopsy table or something. Bet they were cutting up humans here."
They all pile down the stairs, some of them swaying more than the others. Somewhere in the building, an emergency power source must still be running, illuminating their path in dim light filtering through years of dust and cobwebs.
"Shouldn't we be on aa basement level by now?" Ronnie observes as they turn into the next flight of stairs.
"Maybe they needed an extra layer so the screams won't carry." Rick grins up at her.
"Sure," she deadpans.
They reach the end of the stairs soon, and sure enough the door say -1.
"Maybe there are other stairs to ground 0?" Eddie suggests.
"Maybe," someone answers with no conviction. Rick pushes the door.
They set up camp by what seems to be a reception desk, splitting into pairs to explore the dark hallways around, beers and flashlights in hand. Nothing seems too out of place, most of the doors ae closed, but through the windows they don't see much more than empty labs, ridden of any equipment.
"This would be much more boring if the light was on," Eddie observes quietly.
Ronnie snorts. "Oh yeah. It's almost like walking through school at night. But at least the science classroom has a skeleton."
"There's still hope, we haven't seen all the rooms."
"Hey guys!" Rick's voice booms suddenly through the darkness, making them curse and clutch at their only weapons—a flashlight and a bottle of beer. "I've found some keys!"
Eddie and Ronnie find each other's eyes in the dark. "Ooooh!" They croon in unison, turning back without a word.
"Now we can make explore the empty labs from the inside!"
"You think someone left their mug behind? Would be a kick ass gift fro Wayne."
"'Greetings from Hawkins Laboratory'?" Ronnie raises an eyebrow.
"I don't know what eggheads are into." Eddie shrugs.
While everyone looks through the cabinet of keys, Eddie takes a step aside and takes a look around. Their flashlights illuminate the blackness at the farthest corners, where anything could be lurking and looking at they annoying group of teenagers disrupting the peace.
"Has anyone seen a bathroom by any chance."
Rick gives him a short, annoyed look. "Just go in the corner, Munson, don't be a wuss."
"Man, it feels weird in a place like this." Eddie makes a face. "I bet there's a nice, spider-infested urinal somewhere."
"Well, be my guest to look for it, then." Rick shrugs, reading through the labels on the key chains. "Ugh, these make no sense. Here, everyone take a few, let's see who can match it to a door first."
read full on ao3
Forgot to tag my bubs im sorry @blasvemous @wheneverfeasible @hiei-harringtonmunson
@stmonstercalendar : demogorgon
@last-stop-hawkins: "The Monster"
@steddiebingo: Hawkins Lab
Thanks to @stevesjockstrap for brainstorming with me, and thanks @safk-art for designing such cool demo!Steve <3
M | 4040 | Steddie, Eddie&Ronnie | post season 1, pre-relationship, probably a two parter, different first meeting, demo!Steve, monsterfucker Eddie Munson
read full on ao3
"Check this out."
Eddie takes a few gulps of the stale air, thumps at his chest, and lets out a loud belch. The sound echoes through empty hallways and his friends cheer in delight. He bows down, miraculously not spilling any of his beer.
"Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all night!"
Or until their stash lasts, at least, which should give them enough time to explore. Because for their farewell party, Eddie's graduating friends decided to sneak into the old lab. The place stood forgotten for years in a lot carved out in the local forest, the road leading to it already overgrown and easy to overlook. With how huge the place was, Eddie's been surprised nobody is talking about it anymore.
"This is weird," he had said, passing his joint over to Ronnie. The looming building looked... wrong.
"A shady abandoned government lab? No way," one of his friends snickers. Eddie rolls his eyes.
"Duh. I mean it's weirdly... nice looking. Are you sure there aren't cameras?" He's found out about the growing popularity of surveillance cameras the hard way. Surely a government facility could afford those.
"For an abandoned building? Come on," the same guy scoffs, making Eddie wince. He decides to shut his mouth lest he loses his place in the group. He's already the odd one out being a grade below.
"Eddie's kinda right, though. There's no graffiti and the windows are intact," Ronnie points out. "And this has been sitting here empty for decades."
"Maybe we're the first ones here," Rick rubs his hands excitedly.
"Yeah, I doubt that."
"Well, maybe not everyone's into petty vandalism."
"Did I bring the paint spray for nothing?"
Rick scoffs, kicking at the wire fence in search of an entry point. "I'm not doing arts and crafts, man, I'm here to get drunk in a creepy building."
That they could all agree on. It was the tale of a forgotten laboratory that brought their curious teenage asses up to this point, armed with a crowbar, a bolt cutter, and a crate of beers.
Which brings them to now, exploring the abandoned rooms with only the setting Sun illuminating the inside of the building. The deeper they go, the less windows there are, the doors get heavier and the corridors narrower. It's a delightful nightmare fuel and it gets even better when they find a staircase.
"Oh, hell yeah." Rick grins upon pushing open the door. "Wanna see how deep it goes? I bet the best shit happens underground."
"You mean the worst shit."
"Duh. Maybe we'll find an autopsy table or something. Bet they were cutting up humans here."
They all pile down the stairs, some of them swaying more than the others. Somewhere in the building, an emergency power source must still be running, illuminating their path in dim light filtering through years of dust and cobwebs.
"Shouldn't we be on aa basement level by now?" Ronnie observes as they turn into the next flight of stairs.
"Maybe they needed an extra layer so the screams won't carry." Rick grins up at her.
"Sure," she deadpans.
They reach the end of the stairs soon, and sure enough the door say -1.
"Maybe there are other stairs to ground 0?" Eddie suggests.
"Maybe," someone answers with no conviction. Rick pushes the door.
They set up camp by what seems to be a reception desk, splitting into pairs to explore the dark hallways around, beers and flashlights in hand. Nothing seems too out of place, most of the doors ae closed, but through the windows they don't see much more than empty labs, ridden of any equipment.
"This would be much more boring if the light was on," Eddie observes quietly.
Ronnie snorts. "Oh yeah. It's almost like walking through school at night. But at least the science classroom has a skeleton."
"There's still hope, we haven't seen all the rooms."
"Hey guys!" Rick's voice booms suddenly through the darkness, making them curse and clutch at their only weapons—a flashlight and a bottle of beer. "I've found some keys!"
Eddie and Ronnie find each other's eyes in the dark. "Ooooh!" They croon in unison, turning back without a word.
"Now we can make explore the empty labs from the inside!"
"You think someone left their mug behind? Would be a kick ass gift fro Wayne."
"'Greetings from Hawkins Laboratory'?" Ronnie raises an eyebrow.
"I don't know what eggheads are into." Eddie shrugs.
While everyone looks through the cabinet of keys, Eddie takes a step aside and takes a look around. Their flashlights illuminate the blackness at the farthest corners, where anything could be lurking and looking at they annoying group of teenagers disrupting the peace.
"Has anyone seen a bathroom by any chance."
Rick gives him a short, annoyed look. "Just go in the corner, Munson, don't be a wuss."
"Man, it feels weird in a place like this." Eddie makes a face. "I bet there's a nice, spider-infested urinal somewhere."
"Well, be my guest to look for it, then." Rick shrugs, reading through the labels on the key chains. "Ugh, these make no sense. Here, everyone take a few, let's see who can match it to a door first."
read full on ao3
Forgot to tag my bubs im sorry @blasvemous @wheneverfeasible @hiei-harringtonmunson
written for @last-stop-hawkins
Prompt: The Pollywog (S.2 Ep. 3)
Rating: M
Relationship: Steve/Eddie
TW: FtM Steve, pregnancy, seahorse dad, dead name, body issues, Steve Harrington has bad parents, Wayne is the best uncle
Words: 2325
Steve holds the ultrasound in his trembling hands.
A pollywog.
His baby is the size of a pollywog, nesting safely inside his body.
Steve looks quickly at himself in the bathroom mirror while washing his hands. There are no visible signs of pregnancy yet, but soon his stomach will start to swell, showing the world how far love can go; what kind of beautiful things it can do.
The medical file he’s holding has his name on it. His name. Not the one his parents gave him at birth.
Sage Harrington is long gone.
“Everything okay, Mr. Munson?”
Steve Munson. That’s the name on the manila folder.
“Everything’s fine, Sarah. Thank you.”
The first time he called the OB-GYN office, still holding a positive pregnancy test in his trembling hands, he was scared out of his mind that they would make a huge deal about his pregnancy, but Sarah was kind and understanding. She explained that he needed to start taking prenatal pills and gave him all the information he needed while booking his first appointment.
Now, a couple of weeks after that first call, Sarah is smiling at him, booking his next appointment.
“Don’t be scared, Steve. You’ll be a wonderful dad.”
Dad.
He’s going to be a dad.
He looks at the black circle tattooed on his ring finger. He can’t wait to show Eddie the little white blob on his ultrasound. Eddie will be so excited! He had been so disappointed when the doctor moved their appointment a day earlier; Eddie was working on a statement piece for a girl traveling from Minnesota just to be tattooed by him, and he couldn’t move her appointment.
It makes Steve sentimental, thinking about how their relationship started: with an appointment in a tiny tattoo shop Robin saw when they first moved to Indianapolis.
They both got a little ice cream cone on the inside of their arms, and Eddie made a joke about having the same tattoo as their partner. Robin was quick to clarify they weren’t a thing, and Eddie smirked before asking, “Are you free for a drink?”
Steve’s phone buzzes as he gets into the car.
“Hey, sweetheart. You okay? How did it go? I feel so bad I couldn’t be with you! Was the doctor weird about the pregnancy thing? Because if he was, I promise I’ll punch him in the face and-”
“Oh no. Dr. Owens was very kind. Everything looks good. I have a few blood tests to do in the next few days, and I’ll go back in a month for a follow-up. But the little pollywog looks fine.”
“I’m so excited! I can’t wait to meet them! Do you think they’ll like tattoos?”
“Eddie!”
“Don’t worry, love! I’ll be one of those strict parents who won’t allow a tattoo or a piercing before they’re eighteen. And I definitely won’t tell them about the stick-and-poke I made on my inner arm when I was ten to win a test of courage.”
“Eddie!” Steve snorts, putting the medical file on the passenger seat while he grabs the seatbelt, the phone nestled between his neck and shoulder.
“I’m telling you I won’t!” Eddie chuckles, then gets serious. “You okay?”
“A little bit of nausea, but the doc said it’s normal.”
“Are you going to give the news to your parents?”
Steve hasn’t seen them since he moved to Indianapolis, but a baby seems like the kind of news you should give in person.
“Do you think I should visit them?”
“It’s up to you, sweetheart,” Eddie replies softly. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. However, if you want to see them, you’re free to do so. You know that, right?”
Steve sighs, combing his hair with his fingers, “I don’t know… I’m scared they will make me feel like shit and I feel too emotional to deal with them as well.”
Rosemary Harrington always made Steve self-conscious about his body. Since he was a little girl, his mother had put him on every diet she read about in those stupid magazines she found at her hairdresser’s. Steve isn’t naïve, He knows his body is going to change during the pregnancy, and he doesn’t want to deal with his mother’s snarky comments.
HIs mother.
The one who keeps calling him by his dead name, saying it’s just out of habit and that she doesn’t mean to offend him.
The one who never misses a chance to inform him how well his old classmates, Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove, are doing in life. Not like Steve, who flew from New York to Indianapolis with that awkward girl to do whatever she’s doing in Indianapolis.
She.
Fuck.
“Am I a bad person if I say that I don’t want them near our kid?”
Eddie chuckles. “You’re not a bad person, Steve. And being pissed at your shitty parents for not supporting you isn’t something you should be ashamed of.”
Steve sighs, bumping his head on the car headrest. “It’s just… they don’t understand, or they don’t want to, and I can already see what my mom is going to say. How she’s going to belittle me, saying I spent my adult life playing pretend only to end up with a bun in the oven.”
Playing pretend, as if his identity were just a game and not a hard-won truth.
“Hey!” Eddie scolds him gently. “Stop this self-deprecating shit right now. You’re not playing pretend. You never did! You needed time to discover and accept who you really are, and you’re at a point in your life where things finally clicked. Nothing wrong with that. And it doesn’t matter if they don’t get it or if they don’t want to acknowledge you and your identity. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”
“But they deserve to know they’ll be grandparents soon, right?”
“They have no right to demand anything from you. And to be honest, sweetie, are you sure you want someone like your mom in our child’s life?”
Steve slouches against the car seat.
No.
The answer is no.
He doesn’t want that woman anywhere close to his child.
“They’ll find out sooner or later.”
“And we’ll deal with it if needed. For the moment, I’m going to your favorite café to buy a little treat for my pregnant husband and our baby.”
“I can’t eat too much sugar or drink more than one coffee a day. And, obviously, no alcohol.”
“Shit! That sounds like hell! Okay, okay! No coffee or sugary treats. I can still buy you flowers, right?” Eddie asks, “And cook dinner?”
“Cook dinner? Eddie, you burned the pasta water! Remember?”
“It was one time! And I had a perfectly good excuse!”
“No, Eddie, trying to train the mouse you found in our walls was not a good excuse,” Steve laughs, and finally the tension seems to leave him.
“Okay, okay. No cooking. But I can still rub your feet with my magic fingers!”
“I’d love that,” Steve sighs, already dreaming of his husband’s long fingers pressing just right under the sole of his aching feet. Then he remembers that his slim ankles are going to swell, and his entire body will change, and sudden panic fills him.
“Steve, you alright?”
“Yes, yes. Just thinking… it doesn’t matter. See you at home?”
“You sure? I can come pick you up if you don’t feel well.”
“I’m good. Just overwhelmed.”
“But happy?” Eddie asks, so hopeful that Steve feels compelled to reassure him.
“Happy. Very happy,” Steve replies, a sincere smile on his lips.
***
Once home, true to his word, Eddie has a huge bouquet of yellow flowers that he definitely picked from the neighbor’s flowerbed. He helps Steve settle into their recliner before grabbing one of Steve’s feet, placing it on his knee, and reaching for their two-in-one massage oil. With expert hands, he massages Steve’s feet, drawing circles around the ankles and pressing under the sole until Steve whines in satisfaction.
“I’m going to get so big. I’ll have to buy new clothes.”
“No problem, I love shopping.”
It’s true. Eddie loves shopping. Nothing like Steve, who spent half of his life squeezed into women’s clothes two sizes too small to encourage him to lose weight, and the second half hidden behind oversized hoodies and washed-out jeans from the mall’s men’s section.
“Everyone will know.”
“That I’m the lucky man who knocked you up? Yes they will! I’ll make sure they do, honey?” Eddie winks at him.
“That I am… me.”
Eddie’s hands pause for a fraction of a second before resuming their rhythm, pressing that spot on the ball of Steve’s foot.
“You are you, and I am me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t.”
Steve sighs. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Then don’t think about it. You know I believe you should be able to name all your thoughts.”
“I’ll be a man with a pregnant belly, Eddie!”
“So?”
“People will make comments. Nasty comments! Nobody here knows that I’m… that I…”
“The people that matter know exactly who you are, Steve. Robin. Dustin. All our friends.” Eddie cradles Steve’s face between his hands, the faint smell of jasmine oil permeating the air. “Steve, do you want this kid?”
“Of course I do!”
“Then all you have to worry about is eating your greens and keeping our little pollywog safe in your womb until the time comes. Nothing else matters. Not the strangers. Not your parents. Not anyone else.”
“Are you sure? People will talk and—”
“I love you, Steve Harrington. Not another person: you. Exactly as you are. And I love our baby, even if they’re just a little pollywog. Nothing scares me more than losing you, and I don’t give a fuck what people say. The only thing that matters to me is that you’re happy. You know what? Why don’t we call Wayne and give him the good news?”
“Isn’t he in Wisconsin with Rosemary?”
“Do you think he won’t answer a call from his favorite person?” Eddie grins, already calling his uncle on speaker. “Hey, Wayne! How’s the weather in Wisconsin?”
“This fucking place. It’s been raining for three days. I have a free week from the plant and it rains for three days! Unbelievable,” he grumbles.
“Don’t be so negative!” a woman adds from somewhere in the back. “We played Gin Rummy!”
“Oh shit, is that an old-people euphemism for having sex? Fuck, I don’t want to know! I’ll have to pierce my eardrums after this call.”
“We were just playing!” Wayne scoffs, and Steve can’t suppress a chuckle.
“Who’s that? Steve? Steve, my boy, please say something to that stupid man of yours.”
“I’m your nephew!” Eddie complains, frowning, while Steve keeps laughing.
“Now, is there a reason you called, or did you just want to make fun of your old man?”
“No. It’s just...” A pause. Eddie’s eyes move to Steve’s face, who quietly nods. “Steve just came back from the doctor and-“
“Oh no! Is he okay? Do we have to get back?” Rosemary asks, her voice now closer to the phone.
“Let the kids talk, Rosy! Eddie, do you need us to come back? We can be there in six hours. Less if I push the gas a little.”
“No, no! No need to come back. Or at least not so soon. Just wait, what? Nine months?”
“Nine months?” Wayne asks, confused, while Rosemary squeaks, her voice muffled by her hands.
“Oh. My. God. Congratulations!”
“For what?” Wayne asks, puzzled.
“Old man, you’re going to be a grandpa soon,” Eddie grins.
“A what? Oh. Ooooh. Is it true? Eddie, is it true?”
“Yes, Wayne,” Steve finally says. “I’m pregnant. The little pollywog is due in March.”
“Pisces. The dreamers’ sign. A father with a Scorpio sun and a Pisces son will share a deep emotional connection. There’s potential for a strong bond since they’re both water signs,” Rosemary comments. “Your Leo sun might be a little challenging, Steve, but it’s definitely an interesting combination. We’re so happy for you guys! And we can’t wait to meet them!”
In the commotion of the moment, Steve starts to silently cry.
“Oh, babe,” Eddie whispers, kissing Steve’s hair. “Do you want to talk to Wayne on your own?”
A little nod—and after saying goodbye to Wayne and Rosemary, Eddie gives Steve his phone. Steve takes it and retreats to the kitchen, closing the door behind him.
“Wayne?”
“Yes, Steve.”
“I’m… I’m going to get so big. My body will change, and I don’t know if Eddie will keep loving me.”
“Steve… Eddie loves you from the bottom of his heart. A few pounds aren’t going to change that.”
“But I… what will I be?”
“You’ll be a father. A wonderful, caring father. The best father a kid could ask for.”
“But I…”
“A seahorse dad. Isn’t that what the kids call it these days? You know what they say, seahorse dads carry the babies. That makes you one hell of a dad already.”
A seahorse dad.
“A little pollywog with a seahorse dad. It makes sense,” Steve chuckles, his voice wet with unshed tears.
“And one last thing, Steve, whatever happens, we’re here for you and your little pollywog. Okay?”
Dear old Wayne.
The man who welcomed him into the family without a single question. The man who always leaves a place on the couch for Steve during game season. The man who never got his diploma but has a bigger heart than Steve’s parents, who have multiple degrees hung on their walls.
“Okay. Okay.”
Steve doesn’t thank him, it would almost sound offensive, but he feels as if a huge rock has been lifted from his chest when he returns to the living room.
“You okay?”
“Yes,” Steve replies with a soft smile, settling beside him on their worn-out couch. For the first time in his life, the future doesn’t feel scary, it feels beautiful.
written for @last-stop-hawkins
Prompt: The Bathtub(S.1 Ep. 7)
Rating: M
Relationship: Steve/Eddie
TW: cheating
Words: 4596
Eddie couldn’t believe it.
After months of acting like responsible adults, they were fighting like cats and dogs over a fucking…
“It’s a stupid bathtub for god sake!”
“If it’s just a stupid bathtub, then let me have it!” Steve replies with a sneer.
“I gave you the entire house!”
“You didn’t give me a fucking thing, Eddie! I’m entitled to the house because the kids decided to live with me instead of you, Mr. Rockstar!”
“That’s not the point!” Eddie insists, banging his fists on the table, “There’s only one thing I’m asking for, and you have the balls to deny it to me?!”
“Oh! How surprising! You’re the poor, pathetic ex-husband, and I’m the bad guy! Denying the only thing you ever wanted in your life! Does he know about this? Does he know you want a fucking bathtub so much that you’re ready to go to court? Because that’s what will happen, Eddie! I renounced everything for you! My life, my family, my friends, my work, everything! But I’m not giving up on this!”
“And this is what you want to fight for? A piece of ceramic? You should choose your battles more wisely,” Eddie growled, leaning over the oak table in the meeting room.
He was paying for everything, as always, and still, Steve was doing his best to make everything even more complicated.
Where was this fighting spirit when they started to have problems in their relationship? Where was all this fire when Eddie was at his lowest, drinking himself stupid every fucking night? Where was this resolve when Eddie told him he wanted a divorce?
Not once in the last five years has Steve stood up for them. Not once did he fight for Eddie. He always lowered his eyes and accepted any kind of stupid thing he was up to.
That’s how Eddie knew they were done. But knowing that and accepting it were two different things.
He had done his best to test Steve’s patience. To provoke a reaction, acting out like a moody teenager, but he got nothing.
Steve was too busy with the kids. And the house. And the neighborhood committee. And the school projects. And before he realized it, they hadn’t made love in four months.
What was he supposed to do?
Eddie was only human after all, and when one of the roadies fell into his arms, he didn’t say no.
He made him feel desirable and hot, even in his fifties, and Eddie liked it. He enjoyed the way Noah’s eyes lit up every time they shared a glance during soundchecks. He appreciated finding flowers backstage. He got off on the adoring looks Noah gave him.
Noah, unlike Steve, made him feel important. Wanted. He never had a headache or was too tired to have sex.
Noah was younger.
So young that sometimes Eddie had to go to his nephews and ask for advice. Like the time he wanted to buy him one of the little dolls he was obsessed with. Labibi or something like that. Roxy, Jeff’s daughter, had agreed to help him when he asked, but it was clear she didn’t approve. After all, Noah and Roxy were practically the same age, having been born just a few months apart.
And now, almost two years after that first hook-up with Noah on Gareth’s drums’ chair, here Eddie was. Fighting for a stupid bathtub with his soon-to-be ex-husband.
“You don’t want that stupid thing!” Eddie insists, “You want to annoy me.”
“I wanted it first. Don’t you remember?”
Eddie did remember. He remembered everything. He remembered the first shabby house they rented, in Chicago’s shadiest neighborhood. He remembered the nights they spent hugging each other when they didn’t have the money to pay for the heating. And he remembered the day they found a chipped bathtub with brass lion paws next to the dustbin.
It was dirty, and it weighed more than a dead body. But Steve wanted it, and Eddie helped him take it back to their apartment. For almost a year, they had that stupid thing in the middle of their little living room, but when they finally moved to a bigger apartment, the bathtub looked almost new.
“You wanted it just because it was fancy, and you missed your rich boy lifestyle! I want it because it has been part of our lives for years!”
“I wanted it because it reminded me of my mother! Stupid piece of shit! Some of us aren’t blessed with our mother’s guitar and her diary! Some of us have nothing left of their past! Only a stupid bathtub that looks like hers!”
The air in the meeting room freezes. At their sides, their lawyers are exchanging embarrassed grimaces.
“Mr. Munson, I think it’s better if we stop here for the moment. The meeting is adjourned until-“
“No! Either we sign those fucking papers today, or we go to court! No more stupid meetings! I want this to be finally over, Murray!”
Eddie’s lawyer looks at him and then at the other lawyer, “Can we take a break?”
Steve’s lawyer turns toward Steve, who nods and gets up so quickly his chair falls down while he rushes toward the door, slamming it open in his haste.
Eddie sighs, slumping against his chair.
How the fuck did they get here?
They were the perfect couple. Everyone envied them. They had it all. They were rich, had a beautiful family, and a fulfilling life. At least that's what Eddie thought before everything crashed.
Steve’s mother’s bathtub.
How cliché of her having a lion paw bathtub. How come Eddie never realized the reason behind Steve's obsession with that fucking thing? Well, it didn’t matter now. Eddie had his own personal reasons for wanting it, and he wasn’t going to let Steve take it from him. Not when he had the house, the kids, and the cat.
No fucking way!
“I’m going to piss,” he announces, annoyed, before leaving the meeting room.
He’s been in these offices so many times, he knows them like the back of his hand.
He remembers when the office was half the size. Where now stands the receptionist desk, there was the little room where he signed his first contract, right on Murray’s desk. There were just a couple of old, broken chairs that looked like the ones you could have found in a school classroom. Now there are five lawyers, two receptionists, three meeting rooms, and a private little room where Eddie wrote his will just a few years before.
Bathroom.
Right.
As soon as he reaches out to the handle, someone else leaves the bathroom, keeping the door open for him, and Eddie slips inside quietly.
The stall is so pristine that he feels the distinct desire to draw a huge cock on the back of the door. If only he had taken a pen with him.
He lowers the zipper, ready to relieve himself, when he hears a suffocated sigh. A sigh he knows too well.
It’s Steve. Standing in the stall next to him. Softly crying.
Eddie can almost see him, biting down his fist, his eyes swollen and red while he fights against the tears. Failing miserably.
Steve was never the kind of man who cried in public. Something about his father and being a real man. But Eddie has seen him crying when he thought nobody was there. Eddie’s hand goes to the wall that separates them, caressing it as if it could touch Steve’s face and comfort him.
He’s not a monster. Even if they’re done, he still cares about him.
He has just opened his mouth to call to him when a phone buzzes, and Steve quickly sniffs and composes himself before replying, “Hello?”
His voice is wet, and the person on the other side of the phone must have noticed it.
“No. I’m not crying,” Steve lies, “I’m just tired. You know I haven’t slept well in months.”
A little chuckle.
“No, the kids are amazing. I wasn’t expecting that they would have chosen to stay with me. You know, Eddie was always the cool parent. I’m the boring one, the one that makes them eat their greens and do their homework.”
That’s true. Being always on tour around the world means that when Eddie is home, he lets the kids do whatever they want.
“We’re fighting. Again. Yes. I know we have been fighting for ages, but now… fuck Rob, this time it’s real. This time, he’s not going to come back, and I don’t know what to do. The dream wasn’t this! We promised each other that we would have stayed together in the bad times and in the good ones, but now- fuck, that guy is younger than Roxy! Yes, I know he’s technically an adult, but… It’s over, isn’t it? I need to let go, like my therapist has been telling me.”
A therapist? Since when has Steve been seeing a therapist?
“The bathtub,” Steve says, replying to something Eddie can’t hear, “Yeah, I know you don’t think that it’s worth a fight, but… I like it, okay? It reminds me of my mom and… it was the first project we did together. Every time I look at it, I remember the day we found it. Eddie had to call Gar and the others to help us get it into our apartment and up the three flights of stairs. We ordered pizza and drank beer. Jeff told me he was going to propose to Chrissy, and Gar composed a little song using the pizza boxes as drums. It was nice and familiar, and I want that stupid bathtub because to me, it means something! Eddie wants it because he wants to fuck his new guy in it, and I won’t let him stain all our memories as if it was nothing!”
Eddie never thought fucking Noah in that stupid bathtub. He has nice memories of it as well. He remembers sitting in the bathtub with Steve, who desperately tried to submit Eddie’s unruly hair with tons of products until they finally gave up. He remembers sharing the bathtub, even if it was too small for two grown-up men, and they were crumpled together in the tiny space, watching the sunrise over the horizon. He remembers their fingers intertwined. He remembers the twins playing with yellow rubber ducks. He remembers feeling Steve’s love on his skin every time he turned his back.
How did they come to this? Where are the warm smiles that they used to share every time they locked eyes? Where is the feeling of being just the two of them, even in a room full of people?
“You’re right. Yeah, I’ll do it. No, It’s not worth it. I have to think about the kids and…” a deep breath in, “Rob. I’m scared. What am I going to do now? Eddie was my entire life and now, I feel lost.”
Eddie tightens his fists, resting his forehead against the wall that keeps them separated.
“Yeah. I know… I have the kids’ custody, but how am I going to support them? I don’t want Eddie’s fucking money and…” a soft chuckle, “No. I’m not laughing. I just think that it's unlikely that I’ll become a famous TikToker, you know? Even with the kids' help.”
The kids, Rafael and Gabriel, never lost a single step before deciding to stand with Steve. Eddie can understand that. After all, he was the asshole who was always traveling around, while Steve was the warm, comforting, constant presence. But he wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and with all the things he has now, he had to work hard to conquer them. His career. His fame. His money. His family. His Steve.
His.
Because Steve was his, from the beginning of time to the end of the world, there was no doubt about it. And the stupid bathtub served as a memorandum.
On the other side of the bathroom stall, Steve was drying his eyes. His voice was still wet, but not dripping with the same pain and despair as it was a few moments before.
“You’re right. I’ll give him the bathtub. I don’t need it. The memories are buried inside my heart, and nobody can take them away from me.”
Another long moment of silence, then a whispered, “I love you,” and the stall door cracking open. He hears a shuffle of footsteps and the slow closing of the restroom door.
Eddie can’t move. Frozen in that stupid bathroom, thinking about what he just realized.
In every timeline, Steve was his. He was sure of it. So how did he fuck up so abysmally that they were now getting a fucking divorce?
Eddie slams the door open, scaring a poor guy who was cleaning his hands, and runs toward the meeting room. Steve and his lawyer aren’t there anymore. In their place is a pile of documents all signed in Steve's neat writing.
“Where is he?”
“You got the bathtub. No need to go to court. Now. If you don’t mind signing here and here and-”
“Where is he?” Eddie asks again.
“Who? The man you loved all your life and betrayed for a good fuck? He left,” Murray replies without even lifting his eyes from the pile of paperwork.
Eddie glares at Murray, regretting the day he dragged Wayne with him and introduced them. Murray has always been a piece of shit, but since he got married to Wayne, he’s become even more unbearable.
“Get him back here! We’re not done yet!” Eddie yells, slamming a fist on the table.
“Oh no, Mr. I know better! We’re fucking done! We lost three months over your stupid stunt, and now that finally Steve has given up, you want to keep playing this sick little game? No fucking way!”
“I just wanted him to fight for me!” Eddie yells, admitting something he was never able to admit even to himself.
“Oh. Don’t tell me, you poor, spoiled brat!”
“I’m not-”
“You are,” Murray cut him off, “You are so fucking childish you didn’t even realize what you gave up! And for what? Huh? A good fuck?!”
“He’s not just a good fuck! Noah makes me feel…” seen, accepted, loved.
All things Steve did as well. However, in the last few years…
“Oh, come on! People grow up! Evolve! You didn’t! You’re still that little rascal with a secondhand guitar and a wry smile, convinced that you’re the most talented guitarist in the world! And guess what? You’re not! Your luck was having friends like Gareth, Jeff, and Frank who were ready to back you up, and a boyfriend like Steve who worked three jobs to pay for the recording sessions. But no! Poor Eddie! Now that you’re rich and famous, now that you have two amazing children and a husband who loves you from the bottom of his heart, now you screw up! And why? Because your husband isn’t devoting all his attention to you? He’s too busy taking care of the children you insisted on adopting! Good job, you fucking moron!”
Eddie lowers his eyes.
Those words sound familiar.
“Did you talk to Wayne?”
“Did I speak to my husband about our stupid nephew? Of course I did!” Murray replies, grabbing a white tissue to clean his glasses, “He’s at Steve’s, by the way. Someone had to stay with the kids while you were too far up your own ass.”
“Wayne is at Steve’s?”
At Steve’s. Because that’s not their home anymore.
A little nod, “Now make up your mind once and for all and decide what matters more: the beautiful real life that you already have, or the dream you think you’re living with that boy?”
Eddie doesn’t reply; he grabs the yellow file and runs to his car without saying goodbye.
***
Three months.
Three months and Eddie still hasn’t signed the papers.
Three months in which he has still been able to see the kids, because Steve is too kind-hearted to tell him to go fuck himself.
Three months in which he has started to question all his life choices.
It’s Friday.
Movie day.
Rafael has insisted on inviting Eddie to the family movie night, even if they are not really a family anymore.
Gabriel wasn’t on the same page, but Steve stopped the fight before it even began, reminding both of them that Eddie will leave for a world tour soon and they won’t see him for months.
That’s how Eddie ended up sitting on the couch, Rafael asleep in his lap, and Gabriel snoring from the other side of the couch with Steve picking up popcorn from the rug.
“Do you want me to put them to bed?”
In those three months, he never had the opportunity to stay. He just picked up the kids to go to the park, or the mall, or whatever, and he misses holding his kids between his arms and smelling their milky scent.
“Thank you, but there’s no need. You should go home and pack. If I know you, and I do, you haven't even started.”
Eddie hasn’t, but he won’t be admitting that anytime soon.
“Just this once? Please?” Eddie begs, carding his fingers through Rafel's golden locks.
Steve sighs, still kneeling on the floor to find every kennel, “Just for tonight.”
On the way to the kids' room, Eddie catches a glimpse of their bathroom. It looks like it hasn’t been used recently, judging by its emptiness .
"Haven't you used the bathtub?"
“We have a shower.”
“But you love to soak.”
Steve sneers, “Eddie, I’m alone with two four-year-olds. Do you really think I have the time to take a bath? I celebrate when I manage to wash my face.”
Eddie lowers his eyes, “Where did we go wrong?”
“I don’t know, Eddie. I used to think we wanted the same things. But maybe we didn’t.”
“I just… wanted you to see me.” Eddie whispers, slumping against the couch, “I felt like I was losing you. I thought that Noah would make you jealous and you would come back to me.”
“I never came back because there was no place to come back to. You were my home. My life. My everything. And you threw it away for a guy half your age.” A long sigh, “If it were just the two of us, maybe I could have forgiven you. But the kids? They didn’t deserve your shit show, Eddie.”
“I know, I fucked up.”
“Are you going to sign the divorce papers?”
“Do you want me to sign the papers?”
“I want this to be over. It’s too painful for all of us. There are no clear boundaries, and everything is confused. The kids are fighting more than ever. I think that Rafael misses you deeply, and Gabriel is angry with him for not being on his side. They’ve never fought before, not like this. They deserve some peace and quiet, and they won’t get it until things are finally clear.”
“And you? What about you?”
“Eddie. I devoted my entire life to you. Did you really think I didn’t love you anymore just because I was busy with the kids?”
Pulling at his own hair, Eddie lifts his eyes to meet Steve’s, “I love you, Steve. With Noah… it’s over. It’s a funny story. I was going to talk to him, but then he dumped me first. He told me that he was tired of all the family drama and that he was just having fun with a famous rockstar.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’m not. I would have dumped him if he didn’t dump me first.”
“I thought he was your second chance at life?”
It hurts, but Eddie has to admit he actually said that, “Yeah, I thought he was. But when I realized that I cared more about the bathtub than him, I understood that maybe I wasn’t so madly in love with him as I thought.”
Steve stretches his back, “Listen, it’s getting late, why don’t we go to bed?”
“Can I sleep here?”
“Eddie-”
“Only for tonight! I’ll stay in the guestroom, and I promise I won’t bother you! I just… I feel so lonely at my place.”
“You have a flight to catch tomorrow evening.”
“Plenty of time to pack three pairs of boxers and a couple of t-shirts.”
Steve bites his lip, suffocating a little chuckle, “Okay. Okay. Just for this time.”
The only two times Steve ever stood up to Eddie were when he was protecting the kids and the bathtub argument. Eddie knows he shouldn’t take advantage of his kindness, but it’s late, he’s tired, and the house smells of butter and popcorn and warmth, and he really misses his family.
How could he ever think that being a family man was lame?
Eddie doesn’t sleep; the bed is too small and the springs too noisy, so he’s already awake when two pairs of little feet stop in front of his door and begin bickering at each other.
“Open the door.”
“No, you do it!”
“It was your idea!”
“You agreed to it!”
“He made Dad cry!”
“Dad made him cry too!”
The two four-year-old boys are still quarreling when Eddie opens the door, scaring them so much they fall on the carpet under the amused eyes of Steve’s old cat, Nana.
“You’re not asleep!” Rafael chirps, hugging Eddie’s leg, and Eddie bends immediately to pick him up.
“What are you two doing up at this hour?” It’s almost six, which is not an unusual time for the twins to be awake, but it’s still early.
“Dad is asleep.”
“And we need to talk,” Gabriel adds, crossing his chubby arms in front of his chest.
“Okay…” Eddie drawls, taking the time to look at his kids, “What do you want to talk about?”
“You and Daddy have to make up!” Rafael smiles.
“But you have to tell Daddy that you’re sorry and give him all your candies.”
“All my… okay, yeah, that makes sense.” Or at least he’s sure it does in the mind of a four-year-old.
“We miss you, Papa,” Rafael whispers in Eddie’s ear.
“I don’t!” Gabriel insists.
“You do! And Daddy! And Nana!”
Nana glares at Eddie with her yellow eyes before jumping on the bed and making herself comfortable.
“Boys, Daddy and I had a fight. We can’t just make peace.”
“I know. You have to say you’re sorry before,” Rafael nods to himself.
“And mean it!” The way Gabriel insists, with his hands on his hips, is a perfect little replica of Steve.
“When you’re older, things are a little bit more complicated than these-” Eddie tries to explain, but Rafael stops him.
“We’ll make him breakfast. To say sorry. Come on! The chocolate chips are in the higher cupboard! Dad will get mad if we climb the cabinets again!”
“You did what?”
“Come on! He’ll wake up soon!” Rafael says, grabbing Eddie’s arm and dragging him toward the kitchen in a pair of boxers and Steve’s old Tigers t-shirt.
Once they get there, it’s painfully clear that none of them have any idea how to make cookies, so they look at tutorials on Eddie’s phone, promising they won’t tell Daddy, and they break way too many eggs before understanding the perfect technique to avoid shells in the dough.
When Steve wakes up to the smell of burning sugar and runs to the kitchen, he finds his family covered in flour, egg shells on the counters, and sticky fingers licking the raw dough.
“What the hell is going on?” He asks, a red pillow crease across his left cheek.
“Papa is making cookies. He wants to say he’s sorry. And he’ll give you all his candies!” the kids reply in choir, still sitting on the counter in their matching Batman pajamas.
Steve frowns while Eddie helps the kids down from the counter and tells them to wait for him in their room because they need a shower- all of them.
For once, neither of them complains.
“Can we watch tv while we wait?” Rafael asks.
Steve pats the kids’ backs, “You can watch one episode of Bluey, just one.” Then he turns to Eddie. “What is all this about?”
“Listen. It wasn’t my idea, okay? The kids thought it would be good to ask for forgiveness and make cookies.”
“Mnh…”
“They told me they miss me and they want me back.”
“They’re kids, Eddie.”
“I know, but I haven’t signed the papers, not yet. And the bathtub is still here, so… I was wondering if maybe…”
“No. You’re not getting back into our lives just to fuck us up and—”
“Steve, I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I know I made a mess, and I know you’re right not wanting me back. But I miss you! I miss the kids! I miss everything we had! I was an idiot taking it for granted!”
“It hurt, Eddie. It fucking hurt! Seeing you with that boy! Knowing you were willing to give up all we had for someone half your age! I… I…”
“Steve, I’m begging you! I know I have no right, but it’s all I can do. I want to fix this, I want to fix everything. I was a fool, and I see that now! You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I was too egotistical to see how much you were doing for our family!”
“Eddie. We have two kids. Responsibilities. I can’t forgive you like nothing happened. You broke our family, and you broke my trust. In a few hours, you’ll fly to the other side of the world, touring for months! How can I trust what you’re saying when you’re going to be faced with temptation every single day?”
Eddie runs to the living room, fishes some crumpled papers from his jacket pocket, and signs the divorce papers in front of Steve.
“These are the divorce papers. Signed. All I ask is that you don’t turn them in until I get back. I’ll prove that I love you and our family. I promise I’ll make it all up to you. Please believe me, Stevie!”
Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Well… It’s not like people are queuing outside the door to date a divorced dad.”
“Their loss. You’re the hottest dad I’ve ever met. A real, bona fide DILF!”
“Eddie! The kids!” Steve replies, half-offended, half-amused.
“I’ll make it up to you. I promise!”
Steve bites his lip, indecision painted in every crease of his forehead, then he lowers his head with a big sigh, “If we do this again, it’ll be slow. No promises I can’t keep. I’ll keep the signed papers, and if I decide to go through with it, you won’t have a say. Acceptable?”
Eddie nods.
It won’t be easy. Eddie has to earn Steve’s trust all over again. A long, painful process. But this time, he won’t be wasting his chance.
“I love you. I’ll miss you and the kids every day while I’m gone. The only thing keeping me together will be the memory of you… and the bathtub. The most comfortable bathtub I’ve ever used. Maybe we’ll bathe together again someday.”
“Eddie…” Steve gently scolds him, but Eddie doesn’t miss the little grin on Steve’s lips.
written for @last-stop-hawkins
Prompt: The Dive (S.4 Ep. 6)
Rating: M
Relationship: Steve/Billy
TW: caves, waterfall
Words: 4064
When the emergency call arrived, Billy wasn’t surprised.
He had begun to hate weekends ever since he started working as a rescuer three years earlier.
Weekends meant unprepared people hiking around the mountains as if they were strolling through a park, which was definitely not the same thing. Hawkins’ mountains were harsh and cruel, especially in springtime, when a beautiful day could turn into a downpour in no time.
“Five people stuck in an underground cave. A twenty-one-year-old man and four teenagers. The switchboard’s been trying to call them back, but there’s no signal. The phone’s probably dead by now. All we know is that they should be around this area,” Hopper said, pointing to the side of the mountain near the canyon. “Their families said they were camping around the canyon, but when the weather changed, they looked for cover in one of the nearby caves.”
“Good move,” someone commented from the back.
“It would have been if the entrance hadn’t collapsed, blocking them inside.”
That was a fucking nightmare.
Four kids and a young man, all untrained, trapped inside a mountain.
Billy wasn’t planning to respond to that call. He had plenty of colleagues better trained to deal with whiny kids and stupid young men than he was. Byers was one of them, he thought, scanning the room for the man.
“Hargrove. You’re on the rescue team. You’ll answer me. Get ready, we leave in five.”
“Why me? Why not Byers? He’s better trained to deal with kids. You know I have no patience.”
“He can’t.”
“Why?”
“I’m your boss, and I made the decision. Now move your ass and get ready!”
“That’s fucking nepotism! You can’t spare him the toughest jobs just because he’s your stepson.”
“Hargrove, we’re just losing time. If you don’t want to lose your job as well, get the fuck up!”
“No! I demand an explanation!”
“It’s Will,” said a strangled voice from the back. “One of the kids is Will, isn’t he?”
Jonathan Byers was standing in the doorway, one hand gripping the handle, his knuckles white.
Hopper didn’t reply, and the silence grew heavy.
Shit.
“I’ll be ready in three,” Billy said, brushing past Byers and avoiding eye contact.
Worse than having to deal with kids stuck in a fucking cave was knowing that one of them was a coworker’s brother, and the boss’s stepson.
Holy fucking shit.
Tying his shoes, Billy realized he hated weekends even more.
***
The helicopter hovered just above the entrance of the cave, searching for a crack somewhere below.
“I have a squad trying to drill through the rock,” Hopper said, his voice cutting through the static. “But I’ll be honest with you, Billy: the kids don’t have time to wait for the other team to reach them. Our best shot is to drill a few holes and hope they get enough oxygen to survive while we dig them out. But they’re just kids. If they start panicking, they’ll burn through their oxygen faster. I need someone to keep them calm and collected while help is on the way. You’re a dick, but you’re also my best rescuer. I know you can slip inside that cave if we find a crevice big enough to fit you.”
It was a compliment.
Hopper never gave compliments.
“I’ll find the kids and make sure they’re okay,” Billy said, checking his equipment for the umpteenth time: satellite phone, water, headlamp, a small emergency kit, and a compact air tank. Not enough to keep five people alive, but enough to help if someone was struggling to breathe. Byers’ brother was asthmatic, and Billy really hoped he’d brought his inhaler.
“Who’s the adult with the kids?” Billy asked, still rummaging through his bag. “I need a name to call, you know.”
There was a pregnant pause.
“Hopper?”
“It’s Harrington.”
“Harrington as in Steve Harrington?” Billy froze.
“Yes.”
“Don’t tell me the kids are-”
“Mike, Dustin, Lucas. And Will, obviously.”
“Not Maxine, right? She’s at her aunt’s, right?” Billy’s voice trembled, and he had to force himself to take a few deep breaths to keep his panic under control.
Hopper nodded. “I wouldn’t have asked you if she was with them. Just the boys. And Steve.”
How Harrington always managed to get himself into trouble was a mystery, but now Billy was even more determined to find them.
“There’s a crack in the rock near the top of the mountain,” Hopper continued. “You can get down there with a rope. From the maps we’ve got, it looks like there’s a large cave chamber below. Our hope is that the boys made it there before the entrance collapsed.”
Being in a larger chamber would give them the best chance of survival; that much was clear.
Billy raised an eyebrow. Four kids and a guy who’d probably never even been in the Boy Scouts. How could Hopper possibly think they’d managed to reach an inner chamber with no lights or proper equipment?
“I know what you’re thinking,” Hopper said, almost reading his mind, “but the kids aren’t that naïve. They have lights and some supplies. They were on a little adventure when the weather caught them off guard. What we don’t know is how much oxygen they’ve got. Even if they made it to the largest part of the cave, it’s still possible the air’s limited if there’s no ventilation.”
With a stern nod, Billy turns his face toward the mountains. The sky is gray and the rain hasn’t stopped in hours, making the rescue even more difficult. His fucking luck, as usual.
The helicopter is making its third pass around the mountain when the searchlight catches a tiny crack on the rock face.
“There!” Billy yells, jumping to his feet and pointing at the spot he saw for only a moment. “There! Near the fallen trees!”
On the side of the mountain, just above a cluster of boulders, a recent landslide has opened a small crack.
“Mmmh… it’s very small and probably slippery with all that mud,” Hopper mutters. “Are you sure you can get inside from there? I don’t think you’ll manage to get any metal hooks in. Our best chance is using a rope, and if it’s too slippery—”
“Just get me there so I can take a closer look. If I’m not sure I can slip inside, we’ll look for another entrance, but for now this is our best chance.”
Hopper’s stare is stern and exhausted, but he nods and signals the pilot to lower the helicopter. Billy grabs the rope. It’s not his first time rappelling from a helicopter, but it’s the first time doing it in conditions this terrible. The wind is strong, the rain relentless, and the crack is fresh, meaning it could be a dead end.
Fuck.
Tying himself to the rope, he steps closer to the edge and looks down. Why do these things always happen at night? Visibility is shit, and the helicopter’s spotlight is so bright it almost blinds him, but Billy doesn’t retreat.
“I can’t get lower than this with this weather!” the pilot shouts from the cockpit.
Bloody hell.
“It’s fine. Just make sure you don’t throw me against the rock face,” Billy says with a grin he doesn’t feel.
Hopper frowns. “You sure? We can look for another spot.”
“We don’t have the time, and we both know it. Now take the rope and be ready to pull me up if needed, boss.”
Hopper sighs but nods, grabbing the rope. “Two pulls and we haul you back up, okay?”
Billy gives him a thumbs-up before turning back toward the mountain.
“Okay. Three. Two. One. Jump!”
And Billy jumps.
It’s all muscle memory. Even though his body hesitates for the briefest moment, gravity yanks him down as soon as he leans forward. It’s not a long drop; the rope catches almost immediately, and then Hopper begins lowering him at a steady pace, fighting the wind. When Billy finally gets his fingers on the rocky ledge, he takes a deep breath to steady himself. His heart is pounding so hard he can feel it in his stomach.
“You okay, Hargrove?” Hopper growls through the headset.
“I’m good. I’m going to climb toward the crack and let you know if I can slip inside,” Billy replies, angling his headlamp toward the mountain.
It looks big and dangerous, but Billy’s a rescuer: his job is to go where people are trying to escape.
Climbing slowly, paying attention to every movement, he reaches the crack he spotted earlier. It’s larger than it had seemed from above, so he shouldn’t have too much trouble getting inside. Fingers crossed it’s not a dead end.
“I’m going inside.”
“Remember. Two pulls and—”
“Yeah, yeah, got it!” Billy snaps, hauling himself upward before lowering his body into the darkness.
Luckily for him, not only does the crack widen the deeper he goes, but there’s air, damp and hot, but breathable. If the guys were in here, they wouldn’t have had any trouble breathing. That’s a relief.
All he has to do now is find them.
He moves in the dark, his headlamp the only source of light as he steps carefully over the rocks. The instinct to shout the kids’ names is strong, but Billy’s too afraid of causing another collapse, so he moves quietly, pausing here and there to catch any familiar sound, until he finally hears voices.
Faint at first. Then louder.
“We’re fucked! I told you not to use the phone torch! We had to save the battery!”
That’s Sinclair, for sure.
“How the hell did you think we could’ve made it here with no lights at all, huh?” Mike.
“Don’t you think being trapped inside a cave without a phone and just a few bags of cookies is a big problem?” Lucas snaps.
“Guys, please. My head is killing me!”
“Steve! Thank God you’re awake!”
“Hey! You’re crushing me, Dustin.” A pause. “What the hell happened?”
“Wait! Did you hear that?” Mike asks.
“Hear what?” Lucas replies.
“Do you think there are bears in this cave?” Will says, his voice trembling.
“There are no bears in Hawkins,” Dustin answers with complete confidence.
“I heard something crack… maybe there’s going to be another collapse?”
“I saw a light!” Dustin exclaims. “There! In the back! Hey! Help! We’re here! Help!”
Stupid teenagers, Billy scowls, moving faster.
“Don’t yell!” he snaps. “I’m coming. Are any of you hurt? I’ve got a small emergency kit with me.”
“Billy?! Billy! We’re here! We’re here!”
“Do. Not. Yell,” Billy growls again, finally reaching the kids.
They seem mostly fine; covered in dust and scared out of their minds, but fine.
“Everyone okay?” he asks once more, sweeping his light over them before stopping on Steve’s face.
There’s a deep red gash on the side of Steve’s head, and he looks more confused than the others.
“What happened?” Billy asks, already opening his bag to grab the first-aid kit. The cut needs stitches and will probably leave a scar.
“A badass scar, right?” Steve chuckles weakly as Billy cleans the wound.
“Girls love scars!” Dustin grins.
“And how do you know that? Doubt it’s first-hand experience,” Billy shoots back with a smirk, not even looking up.
“Hargrove, you’re such an ass—”
“Hey, he’s the only one who can get us out of here,” Will interrupts. “So maybe don’t piss him off, yeah?”
“Are you really going to take us out?” Mike asks.
“That’s why I’m here.”
“How?”
“The same way I got in. There’s a crack on the side of the mountain. Hop and the others will rope you up. Easy peasy.”
“Easy peasy,” Dustin repeats, skeptical but quiet for once.
“Now. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“He’s got a sprained ankle,” Lucas said. “Got it when we were running from the landslide. Will fell, Steve went back for him, and he tripped.”
“And fell,” Mike adds.
“And hit his head,” Dustin clarifies, pointing at the stitches on Steve’s forehead.
“Can you please stop? I sound like an idiot.”
Dustin doesn’t back down. “Because you are an idiot! Why the fuck didn’t you put on your shoes?”
“Because we were running for our lives! Didn’t really have time to grab anything other than the four of you, shithead!”
“Always the fuckin’ hero, huh?” Billy scoffs.
“The only hero here is you, Hargrove. Now, lead the way. I wanna go home and take a fucking shower.”
Billy chuckles, helping Steve to his feet. The six of them slowly move toward the crack where Billy’s rope is still dangling.
“Hargrove? You there?” Billy’s radio crackles as they get closer.
“Hi, boss. Found them. They’re fine, apart from Harrington: mild concussion, bad cut on the head, and a sprained ankle. You know, a normal weekend.”
Hopper snorts. “Good job, Hargrove. We’re going to pull you up, guys, okay? One at a time. Let’s start with Harrington.”
“No.” Steve shakes his head. “The kids first.”
“We’re not kids!” they protest in unison.
“Harrington…” Billy starts, but Steve cuts him off.
“No. I’m responsible for them. They go first.”
That’s not how rescue protocol works, Billy’s the rescuer, it’s his call. But Steve looks dead set on it, and Billy doesn’t want to waste any more time than he has to inside this fucking cave.
“Okay, okay. Will first. Then Mike, Lucas, and Dustin. Steve and I will go last,” Billy says into the radio.
There’s a heavy pause. Hopper should insist on Steve going first, but choosing between his stepson and Steve makes him hesitate.
“He’s good, boss. I’ll keep an eye on him. If anything changes, I’ll send him sooner. Don’t worry.”
There’s a grunt of acknowledgement, and a moment later Will is tied securely to the rope. Billy gives two sharp tugs, the signal.
“Remember,” he says, “if you feel any problem, pull on the rope and they’ll stop until you’re ready to keep going. But don’t worry, the crack’s wider than it looks. We’ll see you soon.”
Will nods, and Billy grips the rope. “I’m sending Will. Pull!”
With a few jerks, the rope starts to move, carrying Will upward.
“Good. Five minutes and he’ll be on the helicopter. Mike, you’re next.”
One by one, the kids are lifted out.
It’s not until Steve sees Dustin’s figure disappear into the light that he exhales in relief.
“Never going camping again in my life. I promise,” he chuckles.
They’re still laughing when Billy hears it; the low rumble that freezes his blood.
A landslide.
A new one.
Fuck!
“Move!” Billy shouts, grabbing Steve and pulling him behind a cluster of rocks, shielding him with his own body and trying to protect his head at the same time.
The deafening crumble goes on forever, and then, as suddenly as it started, it stops.
“Fuck! You okay?” Billy asks in the darkness, fumbling for his flashlight.
“I’m good. But I don’t think we’re getting out of here anytime soon.”
It doesn’t take a genius to realize there’s no light coming from the crack Billy entered through.
“We’ll find another way,” Billy mutters.
“...grove! Harr...! ...ly! Ste...!”
“Hopper?! Hopper!” Billy yells into the radio.
“Thank g...! You okay?”
“Hopper, I can’t hear you well! We’re fine! Steve and I are fine! But we’ll have to find another way out! Keep all channels open. We’re moving!”
“Ok... ay... Goo... luck, son!”
“And how are we supposed to do that?” Steve yelps as he puts weight on his injured ankle. Billy catches him before he can fall.
“Do you hear it?”
In the renewed silence, there’s a faint sound:a soft, steady murmur.
“Water,” Steve whispers.
“Exactly. If there’s water here, and a lake outside, then there’s got to be an underground river somewhere. All we have to do is find it.”
“That’s all, Hargrove? That’s all?!” Steve groans.
“Got a better idea, Stevie? Because I don’t. We don’t have time to wait for the rescue team to dig through, not after another landslide. Our best shot is to follow the water.”
“And if we don’t find the river?”
Billy doesn’t answer.
“Great. Absolutely great. I should’ve stayed home,” Steve sighs, leaning on Billy’s shoulder. “Lead the way, hero.”
***
The space grows more suffocating the deeper they go into the cave. The walls, which once stood several feet apart, are now so close they have to duck their heads and avoid brushing against the jagged rocks.
Steve’s face is slick with sweat. He tries to hide it, but it’s obvious he can’t take another step.
“Let’s rest for a moment. I’ve got a couple of energy bars and some water.”
“I’m good.”
“Let’s rest anyway. Catch our breath.”
Steve tenses, ready to argue, but then gives up and lowers himself to the ground beside Billy.
“Still sure we’ll find that fucking river?”
Billy nods, nibbling at his energy bar. He’s seen the maps, he knows there’s an underground river. The only question is how big it is. Hopefully big enough for a man to swim through.
“How’s the ankle?”
“Good.”
Billy raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. He knows he’ll have to help Steve once they reach the river, and he hopes it won’t be a long swim.
“Thank you,” Steve murmurs into the darkness.
Billy stares ahead, his headlamp casting a narrow beam toward the deepest part of the cave. “For what?”
“For coming.”
“It’s kind of my job, you know that, right?”
“Yeah. But I’m grateful anyway. I feel better knowing the kids are safe… and that I’m not alone.”
“Is this your idea of a date? Because your standards seem pretty low to me,” Billy snickers.
Steve blushes, stumbling on his own words, “That’s not… I didn’t say… What I meant…”
Billy chuckles. “You’re such an asshole, Hargrove.”
“Thank you for noticing. Now get up, we’ve still got a long way to go.”
With a sigh, Steve hauls himself up and limps beside Billy. One step after another, until finally the faint sound of rushing water grows louder.
“The river! We found the river!” Steve exclaims.
They move faster now, re-energized.
“It’s fucking cold,” Billy warns, dipping his hand into the stream, “and too shallow. We have to keep going, but we’re on the right track.”
They follow the water until it finally widens into a river deep enough to swim in.
“You sure you can swim with that ankle?”
“I was co-captain of the swim team for two years. I can swim.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Billy mutters with a sigh, but doesn’t push it.
They stow their most important gear in Billy’s waterproof bag, exchange a glance, and step into the icy water.
It’s cold, and the current is strong.
Very strong.
Too strong.
“Oh, shit!” Billy exclaims, grabbing Steve.
“What?”
“Don’t you feel it? The current, it’s getting stronger by the second, which means…”
“A waterfall! We’re going down a fucking waterfall! Holy shit! Holy shit!” Steve shouts, trying to swim toward the shore, but the current is far too strong for a man with a sprained ankle.
“Keep calm! Angle toward the edge. Waterfalls usually have weaker currents near the sides!” Billy calls out, though he’s not feeling particularly lucky tonight.
“It’s getting closer! What do we do?! I can see the light! What do we do?!” Steve screams, panic rising in his voice.
“Okay. Okay, don’t panic. Take a deep breath, tuck your chin to your chest, and protect your head.”
Steve nods, eyes wide with fear.
“Stay loose, not rigid,” Billy continues. “It’s just a dive into the water.”
A dive into freezing, black water after a fall they can’t measure.
The look they exchange says more than a thousand words.
“I’m sorry -” Steve starts, but Billy cuts him off.
“Don’t waste your breath. Get ready, deep breath… and hold it.”
The current grows faster, wilder, dragging them toward the roar ahead. Billy’s headlamp flickers across the walls as the water pulls them down, down, down.
“Ready? Take a deep breath!” Billy yells.
And then, they fall.
***
The force of the water drags Billy down, and he has to summon every ounce of strength to break free from under the waterfall and resurface in a world of white bubbles.
He coughs a few times, gasping for air, then looks around frantically.
“Steve! Steve!” he calls, panic rising until he hears splashing nearby. The dark-haired boy breaks through the surface.
“Thank God! Harrington, are you in one piece?” Billy asks, swimming closer, ready to help.
Steve coughs but raises a shaky thumbs-up. Billy joins him, relief washing over him.
“We’re out,” Steve pants, breathless and grinning. “Fuck, we’re really out!”
“Didn’t know there was a waterfall here.”
“Neither did I,” Billy replies. “I think the heavy rain filled the underground river enough to create one.”
They were lucky, though it doesn’t feel that way as they drag themselves toward the shore, exhausted and bruised. Steve’s ankle is swollen and red, and Billy’s arms are covered in scratches from the rocks that battered him.
“Does your radio work?” Steve asks, collapsing in the mud.
“We just fell off a fucking waterfall,” Billy deadpans. “What do you think?”
“Don’t you have, like, super equipment or something?”
“I’m not James Bond, Steve. I’m a member of the Hawkins Rescue Team. No super equipment for us.”
“Shit. So what now?”
“We find wood that’s not too wet and start a fire. Once we’re dry and warm, we’ll figure out a way to contact Hopper. If we’re lucky, they’ll spot the fire from the helicopter.”
Steve nods, rubbing his hands together as the cold starts to bite through his soaked clothes.
“Right,” he mutters through chattering teeth. “Wood. Fire. Survive. Easy.”
Billy lets out a soft laugh. “You got a better idea?”
“I’d pay for a hot shower and a comfy bed, but I guess we’ll have to adapt. Come on, Hargrove, lead the way.”
“Nope. You stay here, Harrington. I’m not hauling your ass through the woods while you limp. Stay put and wait for me like a good boy.”
“Hargrove!” Steve snarls, but Billy’s already disappeared into the trees, searching for half-dry branches.
When he gets back, Steve’s teeth are chattering and his lips are a worrying shade of blue, but Billy doesn’t comment. He kneels, flicks his lighter, and coaxes a flame to life.
“Good thing you smoke,” Steve says, grinning weakly as he holds his hands toward the fire.
Billy chuckles, feeding the flames.
“How long do you think it’ll take for them to find us?” Steve asks.
“They have no idea what direction we took. Our best chance is that they see the fire whit-” Billy stops mid-sentence, head snapping up. “Did you hear that?”
“What? Oh my God… are those rotor blades?” Steve mutters, eyes wide.
Billy jumps to his feet, grabbing a burning branch and rushing toward the lake.
“Here! We’re here!” he shouts, waving the torch, Steve right behind him.
“Help! We’re here!”
“Hargrove! Harrington! Are you okay?” Hopper’s voice bellows through a megaphone as the helicopter hovers lower, a rope dangling toward them.
“Take us home, boss!” Billy calls back. “We need a hot shower and a strong cup of coffee!”
He grabs the rope, securing it around Steve first, helping him up toward the helicopter before following.
When they’re finally both inside, Steve’s legs give out and Billy collapses beside him, breathing hard.
“We made it,” Steve whispers.
“Told you.”
Steve rolls his eyes, opens his mouth as if to retort, then sighs. “Thank you.”
“What was that?” Billy teases.
“Don’t be an ass, Billy. I’m too tired to deal with you.”
“Fine. I’ll wait until your next party to mock you in front of your friends,” Billy grins.
Steve sighs, but his hand drifts toward Billy’s until their pinkies touch. “I was serious. Thank you for staying with me, and probably saving my life.”
“Probably, huh?” Billy chuckles, leaning his head back against the metal wall, eyes half-closed.
There’s no reply. Steve’s already asleep, worn out and peaceful, his head resting lightly on Billy’s shoulder.
Billy looks down, their hands hidden beneath the emergency blanket, and feels the slow, steady rise and fall of Steve’s breath against him.
Maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t hate weekends as much as he used to.
written for @last-stop-hawkins
Prompt: The Pollywog (S.2 Ep. 3)
Rating: M
Relationship: Steve/Eddie
TW: FtM Steve, pregnancy, seahorse dad, dead name, body issues, Steve Harrington has bad parents, Wayne is the best uncle
Words: 2325
Steve holds the ultrasound in his trembling hands.
A pollywog.
His baby is the size of a pollywog, nesting safely inside his body.
Steve looks quickly at himself in the bathroom mirror while washing his hands. There are no visible signs of pregnancy yet, but soon his stomach will start to swell, showing the world how far love can go; what kind of beautiful things it can do.
The medical file he’s holding has his name on it. His name. Not the one his parents gave him at birth.
Sage Harrington is long gone.
“Everything okay, Mr. Munson?”
Steve Munson. That’s the name on the manila folder.
“Everything’s fine, Sarah. Thank you.”
The first time he called the OB-GYN office, still holding a positive pregnancy test in his trembling hands, he was scared out of his mind that they would make a huge deal about his pregnancy, but Sarah was kind and understanding. She explained that he needed to start taking prenatal pills and gave him all the information he needed while booking his first appointment.
Now, a couple of weeks after that first call, Sarah is smiling at him, booking his next appointment.
“Don’t be scared, Steve. You’ll be a wonderful dad.”
Dad.
He’s going to be a dad.
He looks at the black circle tattooed on his ring finger. He can’t wait to show Eddie the little white blob on his ultrasound. Eddie will be so excited! He had been so disappointed when the doctor moved their appointment a day earlier; Eddie was working on a statement piece for a girl traveling from Minnesota just to be tattooed by him, and he couldn’t move her appointment.
It makes Steve sentimental, thinking about how their relationship started: with an appointment in a tiny tattoo shop Robin saw when they first moved to Indianapolis.
They both got a little ice cream cone on the inside of their arms, and Eddie made a joke about having the same tattoo as their partner. Robin was quick to clarify they weren’t a thing, and Eddie smirked before asking, “Are you free for a drink?”
Steve’s phone buzzes as he gets into the car.
“Hey, sweetheart. You okay? How did it go? I feel so bad I couldn’t be with you! Was the doctor weird about the pregnancy thing? Because if he was, I promise I’ll punch him in the face and-”
“Oh no. Dr. Owens was very kind. Everything looks good. I have a few blood tests to do in the next few days, and I’ll go back in a month for a follow-up. But the little pollywog looks fine.”
“I’m so excited! I can’t wait to meet them! Do you think they’ll like tattoos?”
“Eddie!”
“Don’t worry, love! I’ll be one of those strict parents who won’t allow a tattoo or a piercing before they’re eighteen. And I definitely won’t tell them about the stick-and-poke I made on my inner arm when I was ten to win a test of courage.”
“Eddie!” Steve snorts, putting the medical file on the passenger seat while he grabs the seatbelt, the phone nestled between his neck and shoulder.
“I’m telling you I won’t!” Eddie chuckles, then gets serious. “You okay?”
“A little bit of nausea, but the doc said it’s normal.”
“Are you going to give the news to your parents?”
Steve hasn’t seen them since he moved to Indianapolis, but a baby seems like the kind of news you should give in person.
“Do you think I should visit them?”
“It’s up to you, sweetheart,” Eddie replies softly. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. However, if you want to see them, you’re free to do so. You know that, right?”
Steve sighs, combing his hair with his fingers, “I don’t know… I’m scared they will make me feel like shit and I feel too emotional to deal with them as well.”
Rosemary Harrington always made Steve self-conscious about his body. Since he was a little girl, his mother had put him on every diet she read about in those stupid magazines she found at her hairdresser’s. Steve isn’t naïve, He knows his body is going to change during the pregnancy, and he doesn’t want to deal with his mother’s snarky comments.
HIs mother.
The one who keeps calling him by his dead name, saying it’s just out of habit and that she doesn’t mean to offend him.
The one who never misses a chance to inform him how well his old classmates, Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove, are doing in life. Not like Steve, who flew from New York to Indianapolis with that awkward girl to do whatever she’s doing in Indianapolis.
She.
Fuck.
“Am I a bad person if I say that I don’t want them near our kid?”
Eddie chuckles. “You’re not a bad person, Steve. And being pissed at your shitty parents for not supporting you isn’t something you should be ashamed of.”
Steve sighs, bumping his head on the car headrest. “It’s just… they don’t understand, or they don’t want to, and I can already see what my mom is going to say. How she’s going to belittle me, saying I spent my adult life playing pretend only to end up with a bun in the oven.”
Playing pretend, as if his identity were just a game and not a hard-won truth.
“Hey!” Eddie scolds him gently. “Stop this self-deprecating shit right now. You’re not playing pretend. You never did! You needed time to discover and accept who you really are, and you’re at a point in your life where things finally clicked. Nothing wrong with that. And it doesn’t matter if they don’t get it or if they don’t want to acknowledge you and your identity. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”
“But they deserve to know they’ll be grandparents soon, right?”
“They have no right to demand anything from you. And to be honest, sweetie, are you sure you want someone like your mom in our child’s life?”
Steve slouches against the car seat.
No.
The answer is no.
He doesn’t want that woman anywhere close to his child.
“They’ll find out sooner or later.”
“And we’ll deal with it if needed. For the moment, I’m going to your favorite café to buy a little treat for my pregnant husband and our baby.”
“I can’t eat too much sugar or drink more than one coffee a day. And, obviously, no alcohol.”
“Shit! That sounds like hell! Okay, okay! No coffee or sugary treats. I can still buy you flowers, right?” Eddie asks, “And cook dinner?”
“Cook dinner? Eddie, you burned the pasta water! Remember?”
“It was one time! And I had a perfectly good excuse!”
“No, Eddie, trying to train the mouse you found in our walls was not a good excuse,” Steve laughs, and finally the tension seems to leave him.
“Okay, okay. No cooking. But I can still rub your feet with my magic fingers!”
“I’d love that,” Steve sighs, already dreaming of his husband’s long fingers pressing just right under the sole of his aching feet. Then he remembers that his slim ankles are going to swell, and his entire body will change, and sudden panic fills him.
“Steve, you alright?”
“Yes, yes. Just thinking… it doesn’t matter. See you at home?”
“You sure? I can come pick you up if you don’t feel well.”
“I’m good. Just overwhelmed.”
“But happy?” Eddie asks, so hopeful that Steve feels compelled to reassure him.
“Happy. Very happy,” Steve replies, a sincere smile on his lips.
***
Once home, true to his word, Eddie has a huge bouquet of yellow flowers that he definitely picked from the neighbor’s flowerbed. He helps Steve settle into their recliner before grabbing one of Steve’s feet, placing it on his knee, and reaching for their two-in-one massage oil. With expert hands, he massages Steve’s feet, drawing circles around the ankles and pressing under the sole until Steve whines in satisfaction.
“I’m going to get so big. I’ll have to buy new clothes.”
“No problem, I love shopping.”
It’s true. Eddie loves shopping. Nothing like Steve, who spent half of his life squeezed into women’s clothes two sizes too small to encourage him to lose weight, and the second half hidden behind oversized hoodies and washed-out jeans from the mall’s men’s section.
“Everyone will know.”
“That I’m the lucky man who knocked you up? Yes they will! I’ll make sure they do, honey?” Eddie winks at him.
“That I am… me.”
Eddie’s hands pause for a fraction of a second before resuming their rhythm, pressing that spot on the ball of Steve’s foot.
“You are you, and I am me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t.”
Steve sighs. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Then don’t think about it. You know I believe you should be able to name all your thoughts.”
“I’ll be a man with a pregnant belly, Eddie!”
“So?”
“People will make comments. Nasty comments! Nobody here knows that I’m… that I…”
“The people that matter know exactly who you are, Steve. Robin. Dustin. All our friends.” Eddie cradles Steve’s face between his hands, the faint smell of jasmine oil permeating the air. “Steve, do you want this kid?”
“Of course I do!”
“Then all you have to worry about is eating your greens and keeping our little pollywog safe in your womb until the time comes. Nothing else matters. Not the strangers. Not your parents. Not anyone else.”
“Are you sure? People will talk and—”
“I love you, Steve Harrington. Not another person: you. Exactly as you are. And I love our baby, even if they’re just a little pollywog. Nothing scares me more than losing you, and I don’t give a fuck what people say. The only thing that matters to me is that you’re happy. You know what? Why don’t we call Wayne and give him the good news?”
“Isn’t he in Wisconsin with Rosemary?”
“Do you think he won’t answer a call from his favorite person?” Eddie grins, already calling his uncle on speaker. “Hey, Wayne! How’s the weather in Wisconsin?”
“This fucking place. It’s been raining for three days. I have a free week from the plant and it rains for three days! Unbelievable,” he grumbles.
“Don’t be so negative!” a woman adds from somewhere in the back. “We played Gin Rummy!”
“Oh shit, is that an old-people euphemism for having sex? Fuck, I don’t want to know! I’ll have to pierce my eardrums after this call.”
“We were just playing!” Wayne scoffs, and Steve can’t suppress a chuckle.
“Who’s that? Steve? Steve, my boy, please say something to that stupid man of yours.”
“I’m your nephew!” Eddie complains, frowning, while Steve keeps laughing.
“Now, is there a reason you called, or did you just want to make fun of your old man?”
“No. It’s just...” A pause. Eddie’s eyes move to Steve’s face, who quietly nods. “Steve just came back from the doctor and-“
“Oh no! Is he okay? Do we have to get back?” Rosemary asks, her voice now closer to the phone.
“Let the kids talk, Rosy! Eddie, do you need us to come back? We can be there in six hours. Less if I push the gas a little.”
“No, no! No need to come back. Or at least not so soon. Just wait, what? Nine months?”
“Nine months?” Wayne asks, confused, while Rosemary squeaks, her voice muffled by her hands.
“Oh. My. God. Congratulations!”
“For what?” Wayne asks, puzzled.
“Old man, you’re going to be a grandpa soon,” Eddie grins.
“A what? Oh. Ooooh. Is it true? Eddie, is it true?”
“Yes, Wayne,” Steve finally says. “I’m pregnant. The little pollywog is due in March.”
“Pisces. The dreamers’ sign. A father with a Scorpio sun and a Pisces son will share a deep emotional connection. There’s potential for a strong bond since they’re both water signs,” Rosemary comments. “Your Leo sun might be a little challenging, Steve, but it’s definitely an interesting combination. We’re so happy for you guys! And we can’t wait to meet them!”
In the commotion of the moment, Steve starts to silently cry.
“Oh, babe,” Eddie whispers, kissing Steve’s hair. “Do you want to talk to Wayne on your own?”
A little nod—and after saying goodbye to Wayne and Rosemary, Eddie gives Steve his phone. Steve takes it and retreats to the kitchen, closing the door behind him.
“Wayne?”
“Yes, Steve.”
“I’m… I’m going to get so big. My body will change, and I don’t know if Eddie will keep loving me.”
“Steve… Eddie loves you from the bottom of his heart. A few pounds aren’t going to change that.”
“But I… what will I be?”
“You’ll be a father. A wonderful, caring father. The best father a kid could ask for.”
“But I…”
“A seahorse dad. Isn’t that what the kids call it these days? You know what they say, seahorse dads carry the babies. That makes you one hell of a dad already.”
A seahorse dad.
“A little pollywog with a seahorse dad. It makes sense,” Steve chuckles, his voice wet with unshed tears.
“And one last thing, Steve, whatever happens, we’re here for you and your little pollywog. Okay?”
Dear old Wayne.
The man who welcomed him into the family without a single question. The man who always leaves a place on the couch for Steve during game season. The man who never got his diploma but has a bigger heart than Steve’s parents, who have multiple degrees hung on their walls.
“Okay. Okay.”
Steve doesn’t thank him, it would almost sound offensive, but he feels as if a huge rock has been lifted from his chest when he returns to the living room.
“You okay?”
“Yes,” Steve replies with a soft smile, settling beside him on their worn-out couch. For the first time in his life, the future doesn’t feel scary, it feels beautiful.
written for @last-stop-hawkins
Prompt: The Bathtub(S.1 Ep. 7)
Rating: M
Relationship: Steve/Eddie
TW: cheating
Words: 4596
Eddie couldn’t believe it.
After months of acting like responsible adults, they were fighting like cats and dogs over a fucking…
“It’s a stupid bathtub for god sake!”
“If it’s just a stupid bathtub, then let me have it!” Steve replies with a sneer.
“I gave you the entire house!”
“You didn’t give me a fucking thing, Eddie! I’m entitled to the house because the kids decided to live with me instead of you, Mr. Rockstar!”
“That’s not the point!” Eddie insists, banging his fists on the table, “There’s only one thing I’m asking for, and you have the balls to deny it to me?!”
“Oh! How surprising! You’re the poor, pathetic ex-husband, and I’m the bad guy! Denying the only thing you ever wanted in your life! Does he know about this? Does he know you want a fucking bathtub so much that you’re ready to go to court? Because that’s what will happen, Eddie! I renounced everything for you! My life, my family, my friends, my work, everything! But I’m not giving up on this!”
“And this is what you want to fight for? A piece of ceramic? You should choose your battles more wisely,” Eddie growled, leaning over the oak table in the meeting room.
He was paying for everything, as always, and still, Steve was doing his best to make everything even more complicated.
Where was this fighting spirit when they started to have problems in their relationship? Where was all this fire when Eddie was at his lowest, drinking himself stupid every fucking night? Where was this resolve when Eddie told him he wanted a divorce?
Not once in the last five years has Steve stood up for them. Not once did he fight for Eddie. He always lowered his eyes and accepted any kind of stupid thing he was up to.
That’s how Eddie knew they were done. But knowing that and accepting it were two different things.
He had done his best to test Steve’s patience. To provoke a reaction, acting out like a moody teenager, but he got nothing.
Steve was too busy with the kids. And the house. And the neighborhood committee. And the school projects. And before he realized it, they hadn’t made love in four months.
What was he supposed to do?
Eddie was only human after all, and when one of the roadies fell into his arms, he didn’t say no.
He made him feel desirable and hot, even in his fifties, and Eddie liked it. He enjoyed the way Noah’s eyes lit up every time they shared a glance during soundchecks. He appreciated finding flowers backstage. He got off on the adoring looks Noah gave him.
Noah, unlike Steve, made him feel important. Wanted. He never had a headache or was too tired to have sex.
Noah was younger.
So young that sometimes Eddie had to go to his nephews and ask for advice. Like the time he wanted to buy him one of the little dolls he was obsessed with. Labibi or something like that. Roxy, Jeff’s daughter, had agreed to help him when he asked, but it was clear she didn’t approve. After all, Noah and Roxy were practically the same age, having been born just a few months apart.
And now, almost two years after that first hook-up with Noah on Gareth’s drums’ chair, here Eddie was. Fighting for a stupid bathtub with his soon-to-be ex-husband.
“You don’t want that stupid thing!” Eddie insists, “You want to annoy me.”
“I wanted it first. Don’t you remember?”
Eddie did remember. He remembered everything. He remembered the first shabby house they rented, in Chicago’s shadiest neighborhood. He remembered the nights they spent hugging each other when they didn’t have the money to pay for the heating. And he remembered the day they found a chipped bathtub with brass lion paws next to the dustbin.
It was dirty, and it weighed more than a dead body. But Steve wanted it, and Eddie helped him take it back to their apartment. For almost a year, they had that stupid thing in the middle of their little living room, but when they finally moved to a bigger apartment, the bathtub looked almost new.
“You wanted it just because it was fancy, and you missed your rich boy lifestyle! I want it because it has been part of our lives for years!”
“I wanted it because it reminded me of my mother! Stupid piece of shit! Some of us aren’t blessed with our mother’s guitar and her diary! Some of us have nothing left of their past! Only a stupid bathtub that looks like hers!”
The air in the meeting room freezes. At their sides, their lawyers are exchanging embarrassed grimaces.
“Mr. Munson, I think it’s better if we stop here for the moment. The meeting is adjourned until-“
“No! Either we sign those fucking papers today, or we go to court! No more stupid meetings! I want this to be finally over, Murray!”
Eddie’s lawyer looks at him and then at the other lawyer, “Can we take a break?”
Steve’s lawyer turns toward Steve, who nods and gets up so quickly his chair falls down while he rushes toward the door, slamming it open in his haste.
Eddie sighs, slumping against his chair.
How the fuck did they get here?
They were the perfect couple. Everyone envied them. They had it all. They were rich, had a beautiful family, and a fulfilling life. At least that's what Eddie thought before everything crashed.
Steve’s mother’s bathtub.
How cliché of her having a lion paw bathtub. How come Eddie never realized the reason behind Steve's obsession with that fucking thing? Well, it didn’t matter now. Eddie had his own personal reasons for wanting it, and he wasn’t going to let Steve take it from him. Not when he had the house, the kids, and the cat.
No fucking way!
“I’m going to piss,” he announces, annoyed, before leaving the meeting room.
He’s been in these offices so many times, he knows them like the back of his hand.
He remembers when the office was half the size. Where now stands the receptionist desk, there was the little room where he signed his first contract, right on Murray’s desk. There were just a couple of old, broken chairs that looked like the ones you could have found in a school classroom. Now there are five lawyers, two receptionists, three meeting rooms, and a private little room where Eddie wrote his will just a few years before.
Bathroom.
Right.
As soon as he reaches out to the handle, someone else leaves the bathroom, keeping the door open for him, and Eddie slips inside quietly.
The stall is so pristine that he feels the distinct desire to draw a huge cock on the back of the door. If only he had taken a pen with him.
He lowers the zipper, ready to relieve himself, when he hears a suffocated sigh. A sigh he knows too well.
It’s Steve. Standing in the stall next to him. Softly crying.
Eddie can almost see him, biting down his fist, his eyes swollen and red while he fights against the tears. Failing miserably.
Steve was never the kind of man who cried in public. Something about his father and being a real man. But Eddie has seen him crying when he thought nobody was there. Eddie’s hand goes to the wall that separates them, caressing it as if it could touch Steve’s face and comfort him.
He’s not a monster. Even if they’re done, he still cares about him.
He has just opened his mouth to call to him when a phone buzzes, and Steve quickly sniffs and composes himself before replying, “Hello?”
His voice is wet, and the person on the other side of the phone must have noticed it.
“No. I’m not crying,” Steve lies, “I’m just tired. You know I haven’t slept well in months.”
A little chuckle.
“No, the kids are amazing. I wasn’t expecting that they would have chosen to stay with me. You know, Eddie was always the cool parent. I’m the boring one, the one that makes them eat their greens and do their homework.”
That’s true. Being always on tour around the world means that when Eddie is home, he lets the kids do whatever they want.
“We’re fighting. Again. Yes. I know we have been fighting for ages, but now… fuck Rob, this time it’s real. This time, he’s not going to come back, and I don’t know what to do. The dream wasn’t this! We promised each other that we would have stayed together in the bad times and in the good ones, but now- fuck, that guy is younger than Roxy! Yes, I know he’s technically an adult, but… It’s over, isn’t it? I need to let go, like my therapist has been telling me.”
A therapist? Since when has Steve been seeing a therapist?
“The bathtub,” Steve says, replying to something Eddie can’t hear, “Yeah, I know you don’t think that it’s worth a fight, but… I like it, okay? It reminds me of my mom and… it was the first project we did together. Every time I look at it, I remember the day we found it. Eddie had to call Gar and the others to help us get it into our apartment and up the three flights of stairs. We ordered pizza and drank beer. Jeff told me he was going to propose to Chrissy, and Gar composed a little song using the pizza boxes as drums. It was nice and familiar, and I want that stupid bathtub because to me, it means something! Eddie wants it because he wants to fuck his new guy in it, and I won’t let him stain all our memories as if it was nothing!”
Eddie never thought fucking Noah in that stupid bathtub. He has nice memories of it as well. He remembers sitting in the bathtub with Steve, who desperately tried to submit Eddie’s unruly hair with tons of products until they finally gave up. He remembers sharing the bathtub, even if it was too small for two grown-up men, and they were crumpled together in the tiny space, watching the sunrise over the horizon. He remembers their fingers intertwined. He remembers the twins playing with yellow rubber ducks. He remembers feeling Steve’s love on his skin every time he turned his back.
How did they come to this? Where are the warm smiles that they used to share every time they locked eyes? Where is the feeling of being just the two of them, even in a room full of people?
“You’re right. Yeah, I’ll do it. No, It’s not worth it. I have to think about the kids and…” a deep breath in, “Rob. I’m scared. What am I going to do now? Eddie was my entire life and now, I feel lost.”
Eddie tightens his fists, resting his forehead against the wall that keeps them separated.
“Yeah. I know… I have the kids’ custody, but how am I going to support them? I don’t want Eddie’s fucking money and…” a soft chuckle, “No. I’m not laughing. I just think that it's unlikely that I’ll become a famous TikToker, you know? Even with the kids' help.”
The kids, Rafael and Gabriel, never lost a single step before deciding to stand with Steve. Eddie can understand that. After all, he was the asshole who was always traveling around, while Steve was the warm, comforting, constant presence. But he wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and with all the things he has now, he had to work hard to conquer them. His career. His fame. His money. His family. His Steve.
His.
Because Steve was his, from the beginning of time to the end of the world, there was no doubt about it. And the stupid bathtub served as a memorandum.
On the other side of the bathroom stall, Steve was drying his eyes. His voice was still wet, but not dripping with the same pain and despair as it was a few moments before.
“You’re right. I’ll give him the bathtub. I don’t need it. The memories are buried inside my heart, and nobody can take them away from me.”
Another long moment of silence, then a whispered, “I love you,” and the stall door cracking open. He hears a shuffle of footsteps and the slow closing of the restroom door.
Eddie can’t move. Frozen in that stupid bathroom, thinking about what he just realized.
In every timeline, Steve was his. He was sure of it. So how did he fuck up so abysmally that they were now getting a fucking divorce?
Eddie slams the door open, scaring a poor guy who was cleaning his hands, and runs toward the meeting room. Steve and his lawyer aren’t there anymore. In their place is a pile of documents all signed in Steve's neat writing.
“Where is he?”
“You got the bathtub. No need to go to court. Now. If you don’t mind signing here and here and-”
“Where is he?” Eddie asks again.
“Who? The man you loved all your life and betrayed for a good fuck? He left,” Murray replies without even lifting his eyes from the pile of paperwork.
Eddie glares at Murray, regretting the day he dragged Wayne with him and introduced them. Murray has always been a piece of shit, but since he got married to Wayne, he’s become even more unbearable.
“Get him back here! We’re not done yet!” Eddie yells, slamming a fist on the table.
“Oh no, Mr. I know better! We’re fucking done! We lost three months over your stupid stunt, and now that finally Steve has given up, you want to keep playing this sick little game? No fucking way!”
“I just wanted him to fight for me!” Eddie yells, admitting something he was never able to admit even to himself.
“Oh. Don’t tell me, you poor, spoiled brat!”
“I’m not-”
“You are,” Murray cut him off, “You are so fucking childish you didn’t even realize what you gave up! And for what? Huh? A good fuck?!”
“He’s not just a good fuck! Noah makes me feel…” seen, accepted, loved.
All things Steve did as well. However, in the last few years…
“Oh, come on! People grow up! Evolve! You didn’t! You’re still that little rascal with a secondhand guitar and a wry smile, convinced that you’re the most talented guitarist in the world! And guess what? You’re not! Your luck was having friends like Gareth, Jeff, and Frank who were ready to back you up, and a boyfriend like Steve who worked three jobs to pay for the recording sessions. But no! Poor Eddie! Now that you’re rich and famous, now that you have two amazing children and a husband who loves you from the bottom of his heart, now you screw up! And why? Because your husband isn’t devoting all his attention to you? He’s too busy taking care of the children you insisted on adopting! Good job, you fucking moron!”
Eddie lowers his eyes.
Those words sound familiar.
“Did you talk to Wayne?”
“Did I speak to my husband about our stupid nephew? Of course I did!” Murray replies, grabbing a white tissue to clean his glasses, “He’s at Steve’s, by the way. Someone had to stay with the kids while you were too far up your own ass.”
“Wayne is at Steve’s?”
At Steve’s. Because that’s not their home anymore.
A little nod, “Now make up your mind once and for all and decide what matters more: the beautiful real life that you already have, or the dream you think you’re living with that boy?”
Eddie doesn’t reply; he grabs the yellow file and runs to his car without saying goodbye.
***
Three months.
Three months and Eddie still hasn’t signed the papers.
Three months in which he has still been able to see the kids, because Steve is too kind-hearted to tell him to go fuck himself.
Three months in which he has started to question all his life choices.
It’s Friday.
Movie day.
Rafael has insisted on inviting Eddie to the family movie night, even if they are not really a family anymore.
Gabriel wasn’t on the same page, but Steve stopped the fight before it even began, reminding both of them that Eddie will leave for a world tour soon and they won’t see him for months.
That’s how Eddie ended up sitting on the couch, Rafael asleep in his lap, and Gabriel snoring from the other side of the couch with Steve picking up popcorn from the rug.
“Do you want me to put them to bed?”
In those three months, he never had the opportunity to stay. He just picked up the kids to go to the park, or the mall, or whatever, and he misses holding his kids between his arms and smelling their milky scent.
“Thank you, but there’s no need. You should go home and pack. If I know you, and I do, you haven't even started.”
Eddie hasn’t, but he won’t be admitting that anytime soon.
“Just this once? Please?” Eddie begs, carding his fingers through Rafel's golden locks.
Steve sighs, still kneeling on the floor to find every kennel, “Just for tonight.”
On the way to the kids' room, Eddie catches a glimpse of their bathroom. It looks like it hasn’t been used recently, judging by its emptiness .
"Haven't you used the bathtub?"
“We have a shower.”
“But you love to soak.”
Steve sneers, “Eddie, I’m alone with two four-year-olds. Do you really think I have the time to take a bath? I celebrate when I manage to wash my face.”
Eddie lowers his eyes, “Where did we go wrong?”
“I don’t know, Eddie. I used to think we wanted the same things. But maybe we didn’t.”
“I just… wanted you to see me.” Eddie whispers, slumping against the couch, “I felt like I was losing you. I thought that Noah would make you jealous and you would come back to me.”
“I never came back because there was no place to come back to. You were my home. My life. My everything. And you threw it away for a guy half your age.” A long sigh, “If it were just the two of us, maybe I could have forgiven you. But the kids? They didn’t deserve your shit show, Eddie.”
“I know, I fucked up.”
“Are you going to sign the divorce papers?”
“Do you want me to sign the papers?”
“I want this to be over. It’s too painful for all of us. There are no clear boundaries, and everything is confused. The kids are fighting more than ever. I think that Rafael misses you deeply, and Gabriel is angry with him for not being on his side. They’ve never fought before, not like this. They deserve some peace and quiet, and they won’t get it until things are finally clear.”
“And you? What about you?”
“Eddie. I devoted my entire life to you. Did you really think I didn’t love you anymore just because I was busy with the kids?”
Pulling at his own hair, Eddie lifts his eyes to meet Steve’s, “I love you, Steve. With Noah… it’s over. It’s a funny story. I was going to talk to him, but then he dumped me first. He told me that he was tired of all the family drama and that he was just having fun with a famous rockstar.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’m not. I would have dumped him if he didn’t dump me first.”
“I thought he was your second chance at life?”
It hurts, but Eddie has to admit he actually said that, “Yeah, I thought he was. But when I realized that I cared more about the bathtub than him, I understood that maybe I wasn’t so madly in love with him as I thought.”
Steve stretches his back, “Listen, it’s getting late, why don’t we go to bed?”
“Can I sleep here?”
“Eddie-”
“Only for tonight! I’ll stay in the guestroom, and I promise I won’t bother you! I just… I feel so lonely at my place.”
“You have a flight to catch tomorrow evening.”
“Plenty of time to pack three pairs of boxers and a couple of t-shirts.”
Steve bites his lip, suffocating a little chuckle, “Okay. Okay. Just for this time.”
The only two times Steve ever stood up to Eddie were when he was protecting the kids and the bathtub argument. Eddie knows he shouldn’t take advantage of his kindness, but it’s late, he’s tired, and the house smells of butter and popcorn and warmth, and he really misses his family.
How could he ever think that being a family man was lame?
Eddie doesn’t sleep; the bed is too small and the springs too noisy, so he’s already awake when two pairs of little feet stop in front of his door and begin bickering at each other.
“Open the door.”
“No, you do it!”
“It was your idea!”
“You agreed to it!”
“He made Dad cry!”
“Dad made him cry too!”
The two four-year-old boys are still quarreling when Eddie opens the door, scaring them so much they fall on the carpet under the amused eyes of Steve’s old cat, Nana.
“You’re not asleep!” Rafael chirps, hugging Eddie’s leg, and Eddie bends immediately to pick him up.
“What are you two doing up at this hour?” It’s almost six, which is not an unusual time for the twins to be awake, but it’s still early.
“Dad is asleep.”
“And we need to talk,” Gabriel adds, crossing his chubby arms in front of his chest.
“Okay…” Eddie drawls, taking the time to look at his kids, “What do you want to talk about?”
“You and Daddy have to make up!” Rafael smiles.
“But you have to tell Daddy that you’re sorry and give him all your candies.”
“All my… okay, yeah, that makes sense.” Or at least he’s sure it does in the mind of a four-year-old.
“We miss you, Papa,” Rafael whispers in Eddie’s ear.
“I don’t!” Gabriel insists.
“You do! And Daddy! And Nana!”
Nana glares at Eddie with her yellow eyes before jumping on the bed and making herself comfortable.
“Boys, Daddy and I had a fight. We can’t just make peace.”
“I know. You have to say you’re sorry before,” Rafael nods to himself.
“And mean it!” The way Gabriel insists, with his hands on his hips, is a perfect little replica of Steve.
“When you’re older, things are a little bit more complicated than these-” Eddie tries to explain, but Rafael stops him.
“We’ll make him breakfast. To say sorry. Come on! The chocolate chips are in the higher cupboard! Dad will get mad if we climb the cabinets again!”
“You did what?”
“Come on! He’ll wake up soon!” Rafael says, grabbing Eddie’s arm and dragging him toward the kitchen in a pair of boxers and Steve’s old Tigers t-shirt.
Once they get there, it’s painfully clear that none of them have any idea how to make cookies, so they look at tutorials on Eddie’s phone, promising they won’t tell Daddy, and they break way too many eggs before understanding the perfect technique to avoid shells in the dough.
When Steve wakes up to the smell of burning sugar and runs to the kitchen, he finds his family covered in flour, egg shells on the counters, and sticky fingers licking the raw dough.
“What the hell is going on?” He asks, a red pillow crease across his left cheek.
“Papa is making cookies. He wants to say he’s sorry. And he’ll give you all his candies!” the kids reply in choir, still sitting on the counter in their matching Batman pajamas.
Steve frowns while Eddie helps the kids down from the counter and tells them to wait for him in their room because they need a shower- all of them.
For once, neither of them complains.
“Can we watch tv while we wait?” Rafael asks.
Steve pats the kids’ backs, “You can watch one episode of Bluey, just one.” Then he turns to Eddie. “What is all this about?”
“Listen. It wasn’t my idea, okay? The kids thought it would be good to ask for forgiveness and make cookies.”
“Mnh…”
“They told me they miss me and they want me back.”
“They’re kids, Eddie.”
“I know, but I haven’t signed the papers, not yet. And the bathtub is still here, so… I was wondering if maybe…”
“No. You’re not getting back into our lives just to fuck us up and—”
“Steve, I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I know I made a mess, and I know you’re right not wanting me back. But I miss you! I miss the kids! I miss everything we had! I was an idiot taking it for granted!”
“It hurt, Eddie. It fucking hurt! Seeing you with that boy! Knowing you were willing to give up all we had for someone half your age! I… I…”
“Steve, I’m begging you! I know I have no right, but it’s all I can do. I want to fix this, I want to fix everything. I was a fool, and I see that now! You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I was too egotistical to see how much you were doing for our family!”
“Eddie. We have two kids. Responsibilities. I can’t forgive you like nothing happened. You broke our family, and you broke my trust. In a few hours, you’ll fly to the other side of the world, touring for months! How can I trust what you’re saying when you’re going to be faced with temptation every single day?”
Eddie runs to the living room, fishes some crumpled papers from his jacket pocket, and signs the divorce papers in front of Steve.
“These are the divorce papers. Signed. All I ask is that you don’t turn them in until I get back. I’ll prove that I love you and our family. I promise I’ll make it all up to you. Please believe me, Stevie!”
Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Well… It’s not like people are queuing outside the door to date a divorced dad.”
“Their loss. You’re the hottest dad I’ve ever met. A real, bona fide DILF!”
“Eddie! The kids!” Steve replies, half-offended, half-amused.
“I’ll make it up to you. I promise!”
Steve bites his lip, indecision painted in every crease of his forehead, then he lowers his head with a big sigh, “If we do this again, it’ll be slow. No promises I can’t keep. I’ll keep the signed papers, and if I decide to go through with it, you won’t have a say. Acceptable?”
Eddie nods.
It won’t be easy. Eddie has to earn Steve’s trust all over again. A long, painful process. But this time, he won’t be wasting his chance.
“I love you. I’ll miss you and the kids every day while I’m gone. The only thing keeping me together will be the memory of you… and the bathtub. The most comfortable bathtub I’ve ever used. Maybe we’ll bathe together again someday.”
“Eddie…” Steve gently scolds him, but Eddie doesn’t miss the little grin on Steve’s lips.
This is an event to create something new while we wait for the launch of Stranger Things Season 5.
Hate speech and ship/character bashing are not permitted in this event
What are the prompts?
The prompts are the titles of each episode of each season. Just choose one (or more) and have fun with it! (Find them HERE)
What if someone is using the same prompt I wanted to do?
There is no limit to the amount of fics/arts or other contents that can use the same prompt as inspiration. More cake!
Is there a minimum word count required?
This is a low pressure event, so the minimum word count is 500 words or a sketch but you can go crazy as you like.
When is the posting date?
The formal posting date is November 26th, but since the brothers will keep us waiting the AO3 collection will be open until December 31st.
The mods will do their best to reblog every fic until January 2nd.
(Just a heads-up: the mods are CET-based, so reblogs might come through a little later.)
FAQ
Is there an age limit?
No. This is an event open to everyone, but underage participants can only create & engage in content rated Gen-Teen.
Are there content restrictions?
No. This event is open to all ships and all fan works but please tag your content appropriately and refrain from using Real Life People as characters in your work.
All trigger warnings must be indicated both at the beginning of your post and in the tags.
Any NSFW works posted on Tumblr should be posted hidden under the "read more".
Does that mean dead dove and omegaverse content are allowed?
Yes! We just ask that everything be tagged accurately, and any appropriate warnings be included.
For those unfamiliar, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat is a tag that means “exactly what is written on the bag.” While this does generally include darker, mature and often taboo themes, the meaning is that what is listed in the tags will be in the work. Dead Dove writers are encouraged to participate, as we will not be turning away works for any specific themes. That being said, it is the author’s responsibility to tag works appropriately, and reader’s responsibility to read the tags and be mindful of their own boundaries and triggers.
(beautiful definition offered by @stranger-tales ! Check out their event!)
Can I write ST character/OC or ST character/Reader?
Absolutely! We only kindly ask to have at least one ST character in the main relationship (which can be romantic or platonic).
Please tag your content appropriately.
Can I combine this event with another one?
You’re absolutely free to do it, but please make sure that’s not against the rules of the other event(s) you’re working for.
Where can I post my entries?
You can post wherever you would like!
If you post to Archive of Our Own, add it to the collection (HERE).
If you post it to Tumblr, please tag your post with #LastStopHawkins and @ our account @last-stop-hawkins so we can easily find it and repost it.
Please remember to tag the episode you're using as a prompt (for example if it's the first season first episode tag #s1ep1) and every trigger warning!
This is an event to create something new while we wait for the launch of Stranger Things Season 5.
Hate speech and ship/character bashing are not permitted in this event
What are the prompts?
The prompts are the titles of each episode of each season. Just choose one (or more) and have fun with it! (Find them HERE)
What if someone is using the same prompt I wanted to do?
There is no limit to the amount of fics/arts or other contents that can use the same prompt as inspiration. More cake!
Is there a minimum word count required?
This is a low pressure event, so the minimum word count is 500 words or a sketch but you can go crazy as you like.
When is the posting date?
The formal posting date is November 25th, but since the brothers will keep us waiting the AO3 collection will be open until December 31st.
The mods will do their best to reblog every fic until January 2nd.
(Just a heads-up: the mods are CET-based, so reblogs might come through a little later.)
FAQ
Is there an age limit?
No. This is an event open to everyone, but underage participants can only create & engage in content rated Gen-Teen.
Are there content restrictions?
No. This event is open to all ships and all fan works but please tag your content appropriately and refrain from using Real Life People as characters in your work.
All trigger warnings must be indicated both at the beginning of your post and in the tags.
Any NSFW works posted on Tumblr should be posted hidden under the "read more".
Does that mean dead dove and omegaverse content are allowed?
Yes! We just ask that everything be tagged accurately, and any appropriate warnings be included.
For those unfamiliar, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat is a tag that means “exactly what is written on the bag.” While this does generally include darker, mature and often taboo themes, the meaning is that what is listed in the tags will be in the work. Dead Dove writers are encouraged to participate, as we will not be turning away works for any specific themes. That being said, it is the author’s responsibility to tag works appropriately, and reader’s responsibility to read the tags and be mindful of their own boundaries and triggers.
(beautiful definition offered by @stranger-tales ! Check out their event!)
Can I write ST character/OC or ST character/Reader?
Absolutely! We only kindly ask to have at least one ST character in the main relationship (which can be romantic or platonic).
Please tag your content appropriately.
Can I combine this event with another one?
You’re absolutely free to do it, but please make sure that’s not against the rules of the other event(s) you’re working for.
Where can I post my entries?
You can post wherever you would like!
If you post to Archive of Our Own, add it to the collection (HERE).
If you post it to Tumblr, please tag your post with #LastStopHawkins and @ our account @last-stop-hawkins so we can easily find it and repost it.
Please remember to tag the episode you're using as a prompt (for example if it's the first season first episode tag #s1ep1) and every trigger warning!
Hey, question! The name of the episodes will be the prompts, but it doesn't mean it has to happen during what's happening in the episode, right? Fie example, if I wanna write about before/after the events of the show (or even in between seasons), I can?
That’s such an amazing question! Thank you so much for asking!
You can write whatever you want! It doesn’t have to happen in the episode or in the series that contains that episode.
Let your creativity free!
If, for example, you want to use the prompt “the vanishing of Will Byers” and you decided that Will Byers is Dustin’s cat you’re absolutely free to do it! And if you prefer to stay closer to the original material is perfectly fine as well!
The only requirement is that your story (or art) must be somehow connected to the prompt you choose!
I hope that was clear enough and feel free to ask for any other clarification if needed!
1 Chapter One: The Vanishing of Will Byers
2 Chapter Two: The Weirdo on Maple Street
3 Chapter Three: Holly, Jolly
4 Chapter Four: The Body
5 Chapter Five: The Flea and the Acrobat
6 Chapter Six: The Monster
7 Chapter Seven: The Bathtub
8 Chapter Eight: The Upside Down
SEASON 2
1 "Chapter One: MADMAX"
2 "Chapter Two: Trick or Treat, Freak"
3 "Chapter Three: The Pollywog"
4 "Chapter Four: Will the Wise"
5 "Chapter Five: Dig Dug"
6 "Chapter Six: The Spy"
7 "Chapter Seven: The Lost Sister"
8 "Chapter Eight: The Mind Flayer"
9 "Chapter Nine: The Gate"
SEASON 3
1 "Chapter One: Suzie, Do You Copy?"
2 "Chapter Two: The Mall Rats"
3 "Chapter Three: The Case of the Missing Lifeguard"
4 "Chapter Four: The Sauna Test"
5 "Chapter Five: The Flayed"
6 "Chapter Six: E Pluribus Unum"
7 "Chapter Seven: The Bite"
8 "Chapter Eight: The Battle of Starcourt"
SEASON 4
1 "Chapter One: The Hellfire Club"
2 "Chapter Two: Vecna's Curse"
3 "Chapter Three: The Monster and the Superhero"
4 "Chapter Four: Dear Billy"
5 "Chapter Five: The Nina Project"
6 "Chapter Six: The Dive"
7 "Chapter Seven: The Massacre at Hawkins Lab"
8 "Chapter Eight: Papa"
9 "Chapter Nine: The Piggyback"
SEASON 5
S
P
O
I
L
E
R
1 Chapter One: “The Crawl”
2 Chapter Two: “The Vanishing of …”
3 Chapter Three: “The Turnbow Trap”
4 “Chapter Four: Sorcerer”
5 “Chapter Five: Shock Jock”
6 “Chapter Six: Escape From Camazotz”
7 Chapter Seven: “The Bridge”
8 Chapter Eight: “The Rightside Up”
