Mickala | 32 | she/her | bisexual disaster | #1 PTWH according to sources | 18+ Minors DNI | Follows and asks from @mickalaem | co-mod for @steddiemicrofics, mod for @steddieholidaydrabbles and @steddiesongfics | Requests currently closed icon and header photos by me, surprisingly AO3 | Ko-Fi
99% of my writing is Steddie, 1% is Buckingham, percentages subject to change with little to no notice.
I co-mod for steddiemicrofic (monthly exact word count challenge with a one-word prompt), and run steddiesongfics (a monthly challenge based on random songs), steddieholidaydrabbles (pop-up prompts throughout the year, daily drabble challenges in December), steddiesmuttyseptember (weekly prompts rated M or E for the month of September), steddiesportsau (weekly sports related prompts in April), and strangerthingsocweek (a week-long event centered around original characters in the Stranger Things universe).
This blog is 18+, minors DNI.
AO3 | Ko-Fi
call me sunshine, send me to space - rated e | complete | 89,621 words
the only time i feel human is when i'm in bed with you - rated e | complete | 28,150 words
it led me to you - rated e | complete | 44,219 words
little nuggets series - various ratings | complete | 82,712 words total
this place is such great motivation for anyone trying to move the fuck away from hibernation - rated e | complete | 45,467 words
bear hugs - rated e | complete | 76,351 words
relevé - rated e | complete | 59,993 words
pretty baby, i'm runnin' back home to you - rated e | complete | 24,802 words
Tumblr Drabbles | AO3
Headcanon/Drabble Asks / Headcanon/Drabble Asks Part 2
rated t | 665 words | cw: coming out gone wrong (background/offscreen) | tags: gay jeff, wayne munson is the best, found family
🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈
When Jeff comes out to his parents, he’s sure they’ll kick him out.
They don’t.
But it’s worse.
They don’t say anything. They ignore him. They don’t offer him dinner in the evenings, they don’t let him use the car, they tell him they aren’t paying for college. He’s got a roof over his head, but they’re pushing him away.
He barely sleeps, he barely eats, and most of the time, he has to walk to work since Eddie’s busy helping Steve get kids everywhere they need to go and working his own job. Gareth just got his license, but doesn’t have his own car. Frankie has a car, but his parents are strict about having friends in it, so he’s on his own.
It sucks being on his own.
–
“Jeff? That you kid?”
Jeff turns to see Wayne coming to a stop next to him. It’s late, but he was so careful to be far enough away from the road that no one could even see him.
“Oh. Hi, Mr. Munson,” Jeff gives him a small smile, the most he can possibly manage after a long day of dealing with assholes. “Heading home from work?”
“Yep. You too?”
“Yes sir.” Jeff realizes his knees hurt the longer he stands still. He’s barely 19. His knees shouldn’t hurt. “Long day today.”
“You need a ride, son?”
“No, I’m only another half a mile away,” Jeff tries to shrug it off, but Wayne is giving him a look that he knows Eddie probably gets all the time. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’d really like to give you a ride,” Wayne leans over to unlock the door. “It’s no trouble. You’re on the way.”
“Oh. Are you sure?” Jeff doesn’t really like arguing with adults, especially one who’s always been nice enough the few times they’ve interacted.
“Hop in.”
–
Jeff stays at Eddie’s more than Eddie does. They have the space since the whole thing in Hawkins happened and they got a new house. It’s nice being somewhere that’s quiet in a different way.
Wayne doesn’t have to work as much as he used to, but he refuses to retire. He only works three days a week, and it’s usually when Jeff works, so he’s almost never alone at home.
It’s nice.
They take turns with different chores. The few times he does go home, he almost always comes right back when he’s given dirty looks and talked about as if he isn’t there.
Months go by like this. He spends holidays with the Munsons, his birthday, weekends where the kids come over for pizza and beer supplied by Wayne because “if they’re gonna drink, might as well be here with me.”
He never came out to Wayne, but he knows he knows. He doesn’t make him feel bad or other or wrong for it. Probably because Eddie’s always been into any type of person no matter what they have between their legs. Currently, he’s pretty into Steve. At least that’s what he can assume based on the things he walks into on accident sometimes.
When Father’s Day rolls around, he’s not sure what to do. He didn’t know what to do for Mother’s Day either, but this feels…different. Like there might be an expectation. Eddie gets Wayne something every year, and apparently Steve has for the last two years, too.
The Garfield mug is silly. He already has one, but this one has a slot for cookies at the bottom.
When Wayne opens it, he laughs, and gets that sparkle in his eye that means he’s about to cry. He doesn’t, but he leans in for a hug and pats Jeff on the back.
Later that night, he fills it with milk and a couple of the cookies Steve made earlier while they sit and watch one of the old movies Wayne loves but Jeff can’t ever really get into. He keeps him company anyways.
He’ll keep returning that favor as long as Wayne lets him.
Prompt #14- Garfield | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie, Platonic Stobin, Background Gareth/Di | Tags: Bakery AU, Baker Steve, Eddie's A Smitten Kitten, Fluff
Eddie glides along the front of the glass case, looking at all the dessert options. Cookies, cakes, truffles — anything he could possibly want. The woman behind the counter is clearly itching to ask if he needs help for the second time.
Eddie puts her out of her misery, pointing at the sugar cookies. "I'll take one of those, please."
"They're buy two get one free, if that interests you," she says, and Eddie nods. Sure, he'll take that deal. "You wanna pick 'em?"
He doesn't particularly care for himself, and says so, but asks for two of the unicorns. Gareth's girls will love those.
She springs into action, carefully wrapping up the unicorn cookies, then reaches in, handing him what appears to be a homemade oatmeal pie. Two large, soft cookies, filled to the brim with cream.
Eddie pays, and the bell jingles as he leaves. In his car, he takes a bite. It's fucking transcendent. He could definitely write love songs about this cookie.
"They agreed on a Garfield party," Di says.
Eddie pumps his fist in the air. Yes. His brainwashing has worked.
"I'll hit up the place that made those unicorn cookies. You guys do the decorations. Let Uncle Eddie handle the treats."
"Fine by me," Di says, and Gareth laughs from his place at the counter.
"Sucker," Gareth snarks, but Eddie doesn't mind. He's happy to go back to that bakery. See what they can do.
The bell jingles with his arrival, and the same woman is behind the counter.
"Hey, Unicorn," she says, and he raises an eyebrow.
"Good memory," he says, approaching the glass.
She preens, and it makes him laugh.
"So, question. Can I place a special order?"
"Absolutely!" she says, reaching for the computer mouse, jiggling it awake. "Name? I'm Robin, if that makes this feel like less of an interrogation."
She's somehow off-putting and putting him at ease at the same time. Eddie smiles, and gives her all his information, as she pushes a catalog of options his way. They're good. They just aren't what he needs.
So, he begins describing in detail what he's after.
"—whoa!" she interrupts. "Let me just fetch Steve. It'll be easier for you two to hash this out without the middlewoman."
"You don't decorate the cookies?" he asks, and she cackles.
"I mean, if you want them to be very abstract, I guess I could."
Eddie smiles. He'd just assumed this was her bakery, her baby, with the way she had so eagerly wanted to help the last time.
The door to the back swings with her departure, and swings again when the cookie decorator comes through, looking only slightly annoyed.
"Eddie? Robin says you want a custom order?" he asks, and Eddie nods dumbly. He just can't remember what he was supposed to get now. This guy is nice to look at.
"Uh, yeah," Eddie finally croaks. "Garfield. Cookies. A cake. Anything else you can do to match the theme. Twin girls, turning seven. 40-50 guests."
Steve's scratching notes on a pad of paper. "Budget?"
Eddie doesn't know. He's fine with whatever. They've made good money. Corroded Coffin has been good to them.
"Whatever it costs is fine," Eddie says, and Steve laughs.
"That's a dangerous thing to say," he teases, and Eddie can't help but smile. Steve continues, "Basic cookies are $45 a dozen. Detailed cookies start at $65 a dozen."
Eddie thinks those numbers sound made up, but what does he know? He's not a baker.
"Steve. Just make them look nice and I'll pay you. Robin already took my credit card number. I'm in it now."
Steve smiles, and it's a sweet expression that tugs at Eddie's heartstrings. It's as if Steve expected to barter and haggle over his own worth. Eddie understands not undervaluing your art. Sure, his art is music, but still.
"Okay, how do you want them to look?" Steve asks, grabbing a fresh sheet of paper. Starting to sketch. One is round, the other is an outline of a fat cat, and Eddie reaches over and covers his hand, squeezing.
"Steve. I trust you. Whatever you want to do, whatever sparks your creativity. I'm not gonna micromanage your art."
Eddie lets go, and Steve nods, laying his pen down.
"You must love your daughters a whole lot," Steve says, his voice all soft around the edges.
"Nieces. My best friend's kids. But yeah, I do," Eddie says.
"Okay. One Garfield party coming right up."
On the day of the party, Eddie waits out on the curb of Gareth's house. Right next to the orange and black balloons.
Steve pulls up, waving, and when he opens his back hatch it's filled with orange bakery boxes with black cat stripes drawn on them. It's a fantastic touch, and Eddie knows whatever's inside them is gonna be fantastic.
"Okay, moment of truth," Steve says, cracking open the first lid, once they're all inside.
There's sugar cookies of Garfield in many different poses. There's Odie. Jon. Fuck, there's Grandma Arbuckle.
They're perfect.
And so are the cakes. One looks like the cartoon strip, one is Garfield himself and the other is Odie. They're gonna love them.
"This is all incredible, Steve. Thank you," Eddie says, and means it with his whole heart.
"I'll have to assemble the cake," Steve says, and Eddie watches intently as Steve does just that. Eddie notices Gareth, Jeff and Goodie all standing in the doorway, spying. He shoos them away, his hand behind his back.
Eddie knows he'll never live it down, but fuck. He doesn't care. Maybe he's talked about Steve the Baker a little too much, but can they blame him?
Steve gets the cakes stacked, the cookies and other treats plated, and it's all incredible.
Standing back to look at it, Eddie cuts him a glance.
"Any chance you want to stay for a birthday party?" Eddie asks, hopeful. "I've heard the cake's gonna be good."
Steve's smile definitely says yes, he's staying.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Notes: This Garfield cake is what I based the description here off of. Just gorgeous!
His parents have good jobs and they never really struggle the way some of his friends do. Frankie’s dad lost his job a couple years ago and they still haven’t really recovered from that, even with his new job giving him a steady paycheck. Eddie’s uncle works his ass off and still barely makes ends meet in their trailer. Gareth’s mom is the only one doing okay, and she had to lose a husband for the bills to be paid.
He gets new clothes before every school year, and he always has his favorite food and drinks in the kitchen. He was able to take actual guitar lessons and get a brand new guitar as a gift a couple years ago. His little sisters got a swingset for their birthday, one of those ones you buy in the store and they come build for you.
And now he has the new Atari 2600 Jr. He wanted the original Atari 2600, but his dad’s friend who does international business managed to snag this for him in Europe for cheaper. He won’t complain.
He plans on spending his entire spring break playing on it. He already planned on Gareth and Frankie joining him. None of them can reach Eddie.
It’s weird. It’s not that they’re all attached at the hip, but Eddie doesn’t have that many friends. If he’s not at school, selling, or with them, he’s home.
Jeff decides to stop by. He gets the car this week because his older sister is at dance camp and his parents needed him to have it in case there was an emergency. Currently, the only emergency is not knowing where the hell Eddie is.
When he gets to the trailer park, he’s told to turn around. Cops have everything blocked off, but he can see that most of them are circling the Munson trailer. There’s yellow tape and Wayne’s truck, but no Eddie to be seen.
What if something happened to Wayne? He doesn’t see Eddie’s van, so maybe he doesn’t know. Or maybe he’s at the hospital.
He drives straight to Gareth’s and bangs on the door.
“What?” Gareth opens it, bag of chips in one hand, pajamas still on. He’s not even trying to look like he had plans for the day, which kind of pisses Jeff off. Sure, they don’t have school and Gareth doesn’t have a job, but he could at least get dressed.
“Eddie’s in trouble. Or Wayne is. But we gotta find him,” Jeff shoves him into his house. “Get dressed and put on some deodorant. You stink.”
“You stink,” Gareth rolls his eyes. “Maybe Eddie’s just sleeping in his van or something.”
“Dude. The cops are involved. And it must be bad because they aren’t letting anyone into the trailer park at all.”
Gareth goes pale. “Did you see him?”
“No. We need to find him. He wasn’t there,” Jeff explains. “Something’s wrong.”
–
Frankie ends up finding him first. They split up, which is probably not smart in this situation, but they need to cover more ground.
He hides in Jeff’s house for hours. No one knows he’s there and he begs them not to tell anyone. Frankie goes home because it would be suspicious for him to be hanging out and not playing the new Atari. He takes Gareth with him.
“What the hell is going on?” Jeff whispers when he’s sure his parents have gone to bed.
“I have to get out of here, man,” his eyes water as he curls up in Jeff’s closet. “I’ll go in an hour or so, when more people are asleep.”
“Tell me what’s going on!”
Eddie shakes his head. “Something’s fucked, dude. Chrissy-”
Jeff’s eyes go wide. “Did you do something to her?”
“No!” Eddie yelps. “No. I wouldn’t.”
Jeff knows that. But why else would all of the cops in town be at his door if he didn’t?
“She’s in the hospital. They said both her arms are broken and she may be permanently blind. You know anything about that?” Jeff crosses his arms.
“Yes and no. I know about it, but I still don’t know how it all happened. I…” Eddie sobs. “I can’t go home.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine if you just explain what happened.”
“I don’t know what happened!” Eddie’s voice is way too loud for hiding. Jeff shushes him before he can freak out more. “And you know they won’t accept that answer. I’m fucked.”
“You aren’t fucked.”
“I am. But I’m gonna run and they’ll give up looking eventually,” Eddie explains. “Chrissy will tell them the truth and they’ll probably believe her just enough to stop looking for me, but not enough to not bother me. I have to go.”
“But-”
“Jeff. I have to go.”
He wouldn’t leave Wayne if he felt like he had another option. He would never abandon them if he didn’t have to.
So Jeff says the only thing he can think to say.
“If you’re running away, I’m driving the car.”
“What?” Eddie looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “You aren’t getting dragged into this.”
“I already am just by being your friend. You think they won’t come asking questions?” Jeff shakes his head. “If you’re in the shit, so am I.”
“You can’t steal the car to run away with me. You have school next week.”
“So do you.” Jeff laughs. “I’ve got some money saved up. I’ll grab the Atari. We’ll stay at a motel for a couple weeks. I’ll tell my parents I’m touring schools. It’s fine.”
“They won’t believe you.”
“Probably not, but I’ll already be gone.”
Eddie breathes in and out a few times before he stands. “Fine.”
Prompt #13- Atari | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Mentions of Period Typical Internalized Homophobia, Mentions of Recreational Drugs & Alcohol, Teen Sex | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Blow Jobs, Time Jump, Pre-S1 to S4, Secret Party Hookups
1983
The door closes, and Eddie hears fingers twisting the lock on the knob. He freezes, joystick in hand.
When Steve Harrington turns, they lock eyes, and Steve jumps. Eddie laughs. It's ridiculous. Like a skittish cat. If cats were dressed by their mommies in dorky khaki pants and tucked-in polos.
Harrington's face is a little flush, like he's been drinking. Smoking. Something. Eddie sold out of his stash fast tonight, even with the rich bitch premium he adds on for these parties.
Because these kids have loose wallets, spending daddy's money, and Eddie definitely takes advantage.
He also takes advantage of Harrington's queer proclivities. Harrington can deny it, can chase girls all he wants, but if Eddie hangs around long enough, at least fifty percent of the time, Steve will strike out with all the girls and come find Eddie instead. Too many times to be considered an accident, or a mistake. Still, Eddie has no illusions about what that is, or means. He knows he's a dirty little secret, but he still likes it when it ends up that way any given Friday night.
Eddie holds up his hands, joystick still clutched tight.
"What the fuck are you doing, Munson?" Steve asks, as if it isn't obvious.
"Playing your Atari. What the fuck are you hiding in here for?"
Eddie has hopes, but it's honestly too early for that. The party is still too hot, with too many people still here.
Still, Steve sits on the edge of the bed next to him, "It's just a lot tonight."
Eddie nods, and hands over the joystick, "We could take turns."
And Steve smiles, unpausing the game.
Eddie is between Steve's spread legs, and Steve is yanking at that helmet of hair of his, stomach tense, pulled taut. His hair looks better all messy, hot, just like the dark hair that's coming in all over his stomach and chest these days.
"Fuck," Steve whispers, and Eddie lowers his head again, bobbing up and down. He hasn't sucked many dicks, mainly just Harrington's these days, but he knows he loves it. The taste, the smell. Steve's dick is big, and he's clean. That last one isn't always a given, so Eddie has absolutely no complaints.
Steve's watching him tonight. Usually he has an arm slung over his eyes, like he can't bear to look at Eddie being the one that is unraveling him. He knows Steve isn't very in touch with how he feels about men. Or, at least how he feels about Eddie.
Eddie gets it. He'll get there. Or he won't.
"Oh, god," Steve says, and comes, his whole body tensing.
Eddie swallows.
When Eddie pulls back, he wipes the back of his hand across his swollen lips. With his other hand, he reaches down to adjust himself in his jeans. He's hard, fucking rock solid, and he can't help giving himself a few strokes through the rough denim. It wouldn't take much tonight. He could get there with very little elbow grease.
Usually he takes care of himself in a bathroom, or in the dark van.
"Hey! Stop that!" Steve snaps, and Eddie looks up at him, startled by the outburst.
"What?" Eddie asks, and Steve's hand finds Eddie's elbow, squeezing, trying to make him let go.
"You said we could take turns. It's my turn now," Steve says haughtily, and Eddie releases his own cock, stunned.
That's not. They don't.
Well, Steve doesn't.
"You're gonna…?" Eddie trails off.
"If you stop jerking it, I was planning on it, yeah," Steve says, bitchy, like Eddie has inconvenienced him terribly.
Well, in that case.
"Have at it, Harrington."
He's never done it before. Eddie realizes that quickly.
Harrington is enthusiastic, but there's no skill to speak of. But he isn't a quitter, Eddie will give him that. Steve keeps bobbing down, too deep, and coming up off coughing. It's not a good blow job, but any blow job is better than none. Eddie's no fool.
Eddie reaches down, and gently guides Steve's hand to the base of his cock.
"Here," he says softly, "use your hand and just focus on the head."
Steve nods, and when he goes back in, it's much better. He can lay back and enjoy it now, and when he gets close, he warns Steve.
Harrington is brave, or dumb, and takes it in the mouth.
Then, he freezes. Mouth full.
Eddie holds out his hand, and Steve spits into it.
"Thanks," Steve says, sheepish. And Eddie just shakes his head.
1986
"Oh, fuck me," Eddie groans, as Steve Harrington kneels between his knees. Sucking his cock. Squirreled away from the rest of the group. Forearm pressed against Eddie's stomach. The pressure is nice, even if it blocks his view a little.
Sometimes, Eddie felt like he'd made it all up. Another story he was telling, if only to himself. Harrington started dating Wheeler and that was that. He never sought out Eddie again until now. Never even glanced his way, leaving Eddie unsure if it had ever really happened.
Tonight, he knows he didn't dream it. They've done this before. And the motions don't even seem rusty.
Something must've snapped in Steve when Eddie had held him hostage with that broken bottle. Clearly. Eddie was out of his mind with fear, and hadn't even registered who he had a hold of.
Steve Harrington.
And now here they are, again. After all these years. And fuck if it doesn't feel goddamn amazing.
When Eddie comes against Steve's tongue, Steve pulls off. Looking at him.
Eddie holds out his hand.
Steve gives a silent laugh, air puffing out of his nose, and then he swallows.
Eddie smiles, cupping the side of his face, rubbing his thumb against Steve's cheek. This has been a bad fucking day. The goddamn worst of his life.
But Steve's here again, and he never imagined that would ever happen. And there's really only one thing to say:
"It's my turn now."
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Prompt #12 - Mullet | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Under Negotiated Kink, Breath Play, Restraints, Mention of Erectile Dysfunction | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Post S4, 1990s, Fuck Buddies, Eddie Is Pining, But Knows He's To Blame
This is the second fic set in my haircut series. They can be read separately, but they are building on each other:
Perm | 2. Mullet
"Are you sure about this?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods.
Steve shrugs and takes the scissors to the top of Eddie's head, cutting off the first snip of long, curly hair, making it stand up.
"Oh," Eddie says, and Steve stills, hand hovering, scissors wide open.
"It's a little late for oh," Steve snaps bitchily, and he's right. Eddie knows he's right. He's gotta go through with it now. And if he hates it? He'll shave his head. Been there, done that.
Steve has no professional training, but he's been cutting everybody's hair for the last few years as a hobby.
He's a freak, but so is Eddie. He can't throw any stones. His glass house would shatter immediately into jagged, raggedy shards.
Plus, free haircuts. And the perm he gave Eddie looked good. So, historically, he should be more trusting of this. Steve hasn't done him wrong yet.
Eddie decides to just squeeze his eyes closed and hope for the best.
Not that Eddie's ever gotten the best in life, historically. Steve's the best thing he's got, and Steve ain't his.
Eddie regrets it. Almost immediately.
"I look like I'm about to start dancing to Achy Breaky Heart," Eddie bemoans. He thought he'd look like James Hetfield and not Billy Ray Cyrus. He was sorely mistaken. As he so often is.
He looks like a goddamn fool, and the worst part is, Steve did exactly what he asked for: a flat-top mullet.
Mistakes were made.
"Do you like it?" Eddie asks, wrinkling his nose.
"Not particularly, no," Steve says, honest to a fault. "It might be kinda hard to take you serious when we're fucking. I might need a blindfold. For me."
Eddie slumps. He knew he had no chance of Steve Harrington actually wanting him for anything besides sex, Eddie'd made sure of it, even before he did this to himself. But still. It's rubbing salt in the wound.
Only, Eddie's the one that forcefully held Steve at arm's length, so he can't really be that mad Steve's stayed where Eddie put him.
"You did a good job," Eddie says, "thank you."
Steve nods, putting his snips back into their little case. He bought them at a beauty supply store while they were in the city. He's definitely gotten his money's worth, even if Eddie wishes at this exact moment they hadn't encouraged this strange hobby.
"What the fuck?" Goodie asks, and Eddie thinks that about sums it up.
"Shut up," Eddie says, sitting his guitar case down. He's here to practice, not to get made fun of relentlessly.
"Did you pay for that?" Jeff asks.
"You damn well know Steve did it," Gareth chimes in, as if he hasn't been taking advantage of Steve's free barber services, too.
"The cut isn't technically bad," Goodie says, "it just looks stupid on Eddie."
"It looks stupid on everyone," Jeff chimes in, and Eddie feels defeated.
Maybe Steve will shave it all off for him. He can start over, and hopefully not be such a fucking idiot next time.
"I thought you couldn't take me seriously?" Eddie asks, hands cuffed to the bed frame. He yanks, digging into the wooden spindles. He likes that they're all scuffed from fucking Steve.
"I can't," Steve says, and starts stripping the pillow out of its case.
"What're you—"
But his question is cut off, muffled, from Steve shoving the pillowcase over Eddie's head.
Eddie dick gets impossibly harder, and he can feel his own breath blowing back in his face, trapped beneath the cotton.
Steve slides into him, and Eddie keens.
And Eddie comes. Fast. He never comes fast. Not anymore. He knows it's mostly about his prostate and the unexpected sack over his head.
"Did you just come?" Steve asks, and Eddie's embarrassed. This whole arrangement began due to his sexual deviance, his delayed orgasms, if not outright erectile dysfunction, and if that's clearing up?
Fuck.
"Yeah," Eddie mumbles, voice muffled.
"Shit," Steve says, and Eddie feels the bile rising. He needs the pillowcase off. He needs to wear it forever. "That's hot."
And Eddie relaxes, just a bit. Then, Steve's hand grasps at the top of the pillowcase, "Want me to pull this off?"
"No!"
"Want me to pull out?"
"No. Keep fucking me," Eddie says, grateful his face is covered.
And Steve does. Eddie isn't overstimulated. That's not really something he feels these days.
He kinda misses it. And the hair-trigger of youth.
But he relaxes, breath hot, wrists sore, and enjoys the sensation of Steve fucking him at whatever pace he wants. Only worried about himself for once. Chasing his own orgasm, and not just trying to coax Eddie's out of hiding.
It's a slow, easy grind and without being able to see, Eddie focuses on the sound of Steve's breathing. The warmth of his hands gripping Eddie's hips, holding him firmly in place.
The slide of his thick, hard cock.
When Steve comes, it's his breathy, soft moan of satisfaction that does Eddie in.
And all alone, here in the darkness, Eddie allows himself to feel hopelessly endeared.
"Just shave it off," Eddie says, running his hand over the top of his head. At least Steve didn't take the flat top super close to the skin. That would would have been fucking tragic.
Steve studies him carefully, "You don't have to go full buzzcut. I can work with this. Do you trust me?"
Of course Eddie trusts him. He's trusted Steve Harrington since they stomped through the Upside Down together.
Plus, Steve can't make it any worse than this. Eddie'd committed to the buzzcut. Anything's fine.
"Do what you gotta do," Eddie says, and Steve gets to work.
Eddie has nearly dozed off, when Steve deems it finished.
"There. All done."
Eddie reaches around, and finds almost all of his length gone. Except.
"Did you give me a rattail?"
"Yep."
"That's mean," Eddie says.
"I thought you wanted mean?" Steve counters, and well, Eddie can't argue with that.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Notes: I've connected all four of the haircut prompts into one universe, and they'll be posted on Sundays this month.
James Hetfield | Billy Ray Cyrus - Eddie's mullet falls somewhere on this spectrum, lol.
rated t | 502 words | no cw | tags: corroded coffin tour, established steddie, steve's a hairstylist in the sense that he is the only one responsible with scissors
“There is no way you’re getting a mullet,” Jeff laughs. “No way.”
“I am!” Gareth laughs, too.
“You said they were stupid!”
“I said they were stupid for Steve!”
“Nothing is stupid for Steve!” Eddie yells from the back of the tour bus.
“Mind your business!” Gareth yells back.
“No mullets!” Steve yells from the back of the tour bus.
Gareth sighs. Jeff laughs again.
“Why do you even want one?” Jeff asks. It does seem like it’s coming out of nowhere. He’s been pretty set on the same hairstyle for the last six years. He doesn’t even let anyone other than his mom touch it because he’s convinced someone else would ruin it.
“I just think it would work for me,” Gareth shrugs. “Might thin out my face.”
Ah. Now it makes sense.
“I don’t think you need to do that, man,” Jeff smiles sadly at him. “She likes you. As you are.”
“Maybe,” Gareth leans his head back against the couch. “But I hardly get to see her and she made a comment about how some model looked good with the mullet. I could give it a try. Hair grows back.”
“Yeah, but changing yourself for a girl…” Frankie speaks up from his bunk. “Not good, dude.”
“It’s just hair guys.”
Steve steps out from the back and leans against the doorframe. He sizes Gareth up, as he does any time any of them are being weirder than usual.
“Is it really worth the awkward growing out phase?” Steve isn’t telling him no. He’s making him think about it logically. It’s nicer than he deserves, probably.
“If she likes it,” Gareth says. “I can deal with it.”
“Then I can cut it when we stop.”
“Steve…” Jeff shakes his head. He’s gonna ruin this guy’s hair for a girl who is head over heels in love with Gareth already. And then they’ll all have to listen to him complain for months while he grows it out. “You can’t seriously be considering this.”
“It’s his hair. It’s his girl. I’d rather do it than him trying to do it himself,” Steve explains as he walks over to move some of Gareth’s hair off his forehead and check the length of the back. “It’s a big move for a girl. But if he cares this much…I’m a sucker for big romantic gestures.”
Eddie wanders out of the back of the bus, eating popcorn from a giant bag.
“Hear that Eddie?” Frankie pokes his head out of his bunk. “Steve loves a big romantic gesture.”
“Yeah. That’s why I did one,” Eddie says with a mouthful. “Tell ‘em.”
Steve rolls his eyes and holds up his left hand. “We’re engaged. It wasn’t big or romantic. His dick was in my mouth.”
“Dude!” Gareth smacks him.
“C’mon, we agreed!” Jeff groans.
Frankie laughs from the bunk. “Perfect.”
–
The mullet is terrible.
But Steve glares at all of them in such a terrifying way, that none of them even laugh.
Week two is in the books! You all did so great, and I appreciate your participation so much! During this shortened opening week we covered 7 prompts, and there were 36 total entries: 36 Fics Written, 0 Pieces of Art & 0 Other Works.
Color-Coded Ratings Key: General, Teen, Mature, Explicit, Not Rated.
Day Five: Perm
bad perm by @steddieas-shegoes | Word Count: 996 | Rating: M | CW: implied sexual content | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: fade to black, strangers to friends to lovers, fast burn, hair washing
An Ounce of Prevention by @thisapplepielife | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Gareth & Goodie, Gareth/Di | Tags: Future Fic, Gareth Has Personal Experience, Nobody Will Listen To Him Though
Whatever He Needs by @thisapplepielife | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Erectile Dysfunction | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Post S4, 1990s, Steve's Got A New Hobby, Fuck Buddies
It's Just Different by @glassbxttless | Word Count: 916 | Rating: Not Rated | CW: reader has hair long enough for a perm | Pairing: eddie munson x bats (fem!reader) | Tags: Eddie comes home to a surprise he really wasn’t expecting.
Corroded Coffin Fest 2026 - Day 5 - Perm by @jo-harrington | Word Count: 629 | Rating: M | Tags: Humor, Post Season 4, Eddie Lives, No Season 5 everything is fine, Minor Dustin Experiment Mention
Prompt: Day 5 - Perm by @dreamwatch | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: mild gore | POV: Eddie / Steve | Relationships: Steddie if you squint | Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Eddie's parents, Season 5, Eddie's living his best life
Day Six: Family Video
Strike a Deal by @thisapplepielife | | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Recreational Drug Use | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steve & Corroded Coffin, Steddie (If You Squint) | Tags: Pre & Post S4, Family Video, Time Jump, Steve & Eddie Strike a Deal, Open Ending
unlikely coworkers to friends by @steddieas-shegoes | Word Count: 922 | Rating: T | CW: None | Pairing: Platonic Stobin + Jeff | Tags: platonic stobin, jeff is the third wheel to their platonic marriage
late, again. by @literatiruinedme | Word Count: 492 | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Corroded Coffin | Tags: nonsense in family video, post s4, no season 5
Like a Circling Vulture by @glassbxttless | Word Count: 780 | Rating: Not Rated | CW: sex talk, eddie’s fallin in love | Tags: Something happened last night and Eddie just has to tell his best friend.
Corroded Coffin Fest 2026 - Day 6 - Family Video by @jo-harrington | Word Count: 868 | Rating: M | Tags: Kas!Eddie, Upside Down, Angst, Abstract Horror, Vague Monstrousness
Day Seven: The California Raisins
matching lunchboxes by @steddieas-shegoes | Word Count: 696 | Rating: M | CW: past character death, referenced serious illness, drug mentions | Pairing: Jeff & Eddie | Tags: good uncle wayne, eddie and jeff friendship, eddie's childhood
Trippy by @thisapplepielife | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Recreational Drug Use ('Shrooms) | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Christmas, Eddie Munson Lives, And Goes On A Trip
$75 for a Raisin? by @glassbxttless | Word Count: 898 | Rating: Not Rated | CW: None | Tags: Roan wants a California Raisins themed birthday party in the year of our lord and savior, 2005.
Corroded Coffin Fest 2026 - Day 7 - The California Raisins by @jo-harrington | Word Count: 861 | Rating: T | Tags: Humor, Friendship, Expectation vs Reality, Light Angst, Hurt-ish/Comfort-ish, Jeff gives the best pep talks
mornons. by @literatiruinedme | Word Count: 568 | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Jeff | Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Corroded Coffin | Tags: pool time fine, taking a swim fully clothed, idiot4idiot, talking shit about your besties (affectionate)
Day Eight: "Where's the Beef?"
good guy steve by @steddieas-shegoes | Word Count: 659 | Rating: T | CW: recreational drug use | Pairing: Steve & Corroded Coffin | Tags: established steddie, good babysitter steve, everyone's high
All This Time by @thisapplepielife | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: AU, Office Setting, Meet Cute, Misunderstanding, Free Donuts!
Bison by @glassbxttless | Word Count: 702 | Rating: Not Rated | CW: bison, swearing, bats thinkin her husband is hawt | Tags: The Munson’s embark on a cross country road trip back to Hawkins for their annual seeing of the family— it’s an adventure from start to finish.
Prompt: Day 8 - Where's the beef? by @dreamwatch | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Ableist language | POV: Steve | Relationships: Steddie | Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, disabled Eddie Munson, ableism, protective Steve, mild angst, they're in love, happy ending I promise
Corroded Coffin Fest 2026 - Day 8 - Where's the Beef? by @jo-harrington | Word Count: 860 | Rating: M | Tags: No Upside Down AU, Humor, Friendship, Food/Eating, Minor Reference to Food Fucking
Day Nine: Leg Warmers
Drive Me Crazy by @thisapplepielife | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Clothed Sex | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, And Steve Harrington Decides to Drive Him Insane
freezing cold by @steddieas-shegoes | Word Count: 990 | Rating: M | CW: implied suicidal thoughts (very brief, not detailed) | Tags: angst with a happy ending, good friend steve harrington, hurt/comfort, coming out mentioned
Halloween 2010 by @glassbxttless | Word Count: 896 | Rating: Not Rated | CW: two little teenaged assholes, eddie being a good parent and an even better husband | Tags: Eddie and Bats are going to an 80’s themed costume party and they’re wearing spandex.
Corroded Coffin Fest 2026 - Day 9 - Leg Warmers by @jo-harrington | Word Count: 955 | Rating: T | Tags: No Upside Down AU, Parody (The Godfather), Humor, Friendship, Guilt
Day Ten: Waterbed
on the run by @steddieas-shegoes | Word Count: 923 | Rating: M | CW: implied sexual content | Tags: flirting, canon divergence, chrissy lives, jeff and chrissy on the run
Go With The Flow by @thisapplepielife | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Sex | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Established Relationship, Banter, Eddie Gets a Secondhand Waterbed, Steve is Less Than Thrilled
I Want to Be in a Bed by @glassbxttless | Word Count: 591 | Rating: Not Rated | CW: bats is pissy | Tags: Eddie and Bats are sleeping in their brand new bed, in their brand new house.
Dr. Feelgood by @shelleyminx | Word Count: 971 | Rating: G | CW: hospital, hip injury | POV: Jeff | Pairing(s): Jeff & Eddie, Steddie if you squint | Tags: Pre-Steddie, drunk/high Corroded Coffin, high confessions
Prompt: Day 10 - Waterbed by @dreamwatch | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Eddie | Relationships: Steddie | Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Corroded Coffin, Rock Star Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin make it, future fic, slice of life
Corroded Coffin Fest 2026 - Day 10 - Waterbed by @jo-harrington | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | Pairing: Kas!EddiexOC | Tags: Kas!Eddie, Fluff, smut-adjacent (fade to black), vampire-stuff, humor, romance, other plot and original characters referenced
Day Eleven: Ashtray
How Bad Is It? by @thisapplepielife | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Drug Addiction (Prescription Pills) | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Eddie & Corroded Coffin, Steddie | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Is Clean and Sober, But That Doesn't Mean Everyone Is, Mild Angst, Hopeful Open Ending
the gift that kept giving by @steddieas-shegoes | Word Count: 910 | Rating: T | CW: smoking mentions | Tags: good uncle wayne munson, wayne pov, time skips, corroded coffin origins and eventual fame
The Ashtray by @glassbxttless | Word Count: 591 | Rating: Not Rated | CW: bats is pissy | Tags: Eddie and Bats are sleeping in their brand new bed, in their brand new house.
day 11 - ashtray by @hullomoon | Word Count: 605 | Rating: T | CW: Drug Use (Weed) | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steve/Eddie | Tags: Post Season 3, Domestic, Smoking
Corroded Coffin Fest 2026 - Day 11 - Ashtray by @jo-harrington | Word Count: 980 | Rating: M | Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader | Tags: New relationship, workplace romance, early romance, fluff, smoking (obviously), Eddie is a cheeseball of epic proportions
Prompt #11 - Ashtray | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Drug Addiction (Prescription Pills) | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Eddie & Corroded Coffin, Steddie | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Is Clean and Sober, But That Doesn't Mean Everyone Is, Mild Angst, Hopeful Open Ending
Eddie wipes the sweat from his face with his towel.
When he reemerges, Jeff is standing there in the doorway of the hotel gym.
"You know if you cross that threshold this exercise shit might be catching," Eddie teases.
The rest of the band doesn't understand this need to workout. Doesn't get the feeling the endorphins provide. The clear head. The rush.
They don't understand the satisfaction of breaking a sweat and feeling a little bit of a burn that you push past for just a little bit more.
Or, of sleeping good after.
"Ha ha," Jeff says dryly.
"If you're gonna loiter, make yourself useful," Eddie demands, pointing at the space behind the bench.
Jeff assumes the position, arms up, spotting him.
And Eddie lifts the bar off the rack, the weights balanced on either side, bringing it down to his chest, before pushing it back upwards. Over and over.
When he can't do another, the weight finally too much to bear, Jeff helps him rerack it.
Eddie's breathing hard, when Jeff decides to stop beating around the bush.
"Listen. We've been talking."
"Oh, you've been talking and you drew the short straw?" Eddie asks, looking at him upside down
"No, I volunteered. Would you really want Goodie to be in charge of handling anything, well, delicate?"
Eddie laughs.
What on earth do they have going on that's delicate?
"Okay…" Eddie trails off, intrigued. But stands up. He feels like he needs to be standing for this. Whatever this is.
"We think we should take a break. You need it."
Eddie snorts. Eddie's better than he's ever been. He doesn't need a break. They are really hitting their stride. They sound good. They look good. Everything is good.
He's clean. Sober. Fit as a fiddle.
He doesn't even smoke anymore.
"News to me. Look at me," Eddie says, spreading his arms wide, "I'm fine."
Jeff's eyes go all sad.
"We know. We do. And we're real proud of you, Ed. But Steve isn't fine."
Eddie starts to argue, starts to push back, but he doesn't really know what he needs to be mad about yet.
"He's not? Did he say that?"
Jeff shakes his head, "Of course he didn't. You can see him, right? You've looked at him?"
Eddie worries the towel between his fingers.
"What do you mean?" Eddie asks, barely above a hushed whisper.
"Eddie," Jeff says, looking away for a moment before he can meet Eddie's eyes again. "You're clean. He ain't."
Eddie's instinct is to shove him. To push him down. Steve never got involved in any of Eddie's hard shit. He wants to crack him across the jaw. He takes the first step, and Jeff flinches preemptively.
Eddie stills.
Frozen.
"What?"
"Pills, Eddie. Way too many pills."
"His migraines," Eddie says, grasping for all the straws, only finding them slipping through his clutches, "His back. He had grafts. You know he hurts. You know what we both went through."
"Eddie."
"He's not an addict!" Eddie snarls, fists balled, "I'm the addict! Me!"
Eddie is the one that had a dealer in every port of call. He's the one that made back alley deals. He's the one. He's the one.
"Eddie."
Eddie hangs his head.
"We love him. This is coming from a place of love."
And Eddie knows that's true. They do love Steve. He's family.
"How bad is it?" Eddie finally asks.
"We've agreed to take a year off."
A year.
They think Steve needs a year off.
Eddie turns his head, tears burning his eyes.
Jeff steps forward and hugs him. "We got you cleaned up. We'll get him cleaned up, too."
Steve's cigarettes are on the table, and Eddie picks them up. Plucking one from the box, lighting it, he smokes, staring out the window of the city they haven't seen anything in.
When his ash is long, too long, he looks for the ashtray. It's nowhere to be found.
This situation is precarious.
He holds his hand under the end of his cigarette as he bangs around, searching. There must be an ashtray. Somewhere.
"What are you looking for?" Steve asks, groggy, head barely off the pillow.
"Ashtray," Eddie says, voice heavy. Thick with uncried tears.
"Isn't one. This is a non-smoking room," Steve mumbles, and Eddie goes into the bathroom and flicks it into the toilet. Flushing it.
When he comes back, Steve's sitting up. "Thought you didn't smoke anymore?"
Eddie rushes towards him, crawling into his lap, arms winding around his neck, squeezing.
"Hey, it's okay," Steve says, face buried in Eddie's neck, and it doesn't feel okay. Nothing feels okay. He wants to say they're overreacting. Say that it's fine. That Steve's fine.
But it's not.
He's not.
Steve might not be out on the streets, but he's been doctor shopping. City to city. Pain patches. And bottle after bottle. Eddie knows that. Eddie knows he's dealing with pain.
"The band's taking a break," Eddie admits, squeezing Steve tight. Too tight.
"For what?" Steve asks, fingertips pressed into Eddie's back.
Eddie wants to cry. Scream. Eddie wants to go back to Hawkins and burn it the rest of the way to the ground. Shove it in a hole, and hope it's never recovered. He wants to flay the disgusting skin from Vecna's rotting corpse.
Eddie wants to bury his head in the sand.
Eddie wants to run.
Run away with Steve. Anything to not face this. It's harder this time. It's harder not being him. He doesn't understand how that's possible. But this feels worse. Infinitely so.
"They're worried," Eddie says, squeezing Steve, like he might get away. Like he might lash out.
"About?"
"You," Eddie chokes out, holding on tight. "The pills."
"Oh," Steve says, a soft huff of breath against Eddie's neck, "I'm okay."
And Eddie knows that's true, but also not true. It's complicated. It always is.
Steve doesn't fight him. Doesn't run. He's not Eddie.
He handles things head-on.
Even this, Eddie hopes.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Notes: It's so often Eddie, and I've written a bazillion words about that — but what if it's Steve? What then? (My apologies, lol.)
Steve helps Eddie celebrate his birthday in a fun and interesting way.
Being Steve’s friend gets weirder than anyone would expect, but Eddie couldn’t have imagined it getting like this.
Steve had said something like lemme throw you a party and Eddie had thought oh cool, a little shindig, nice!
He hadn’t expected that the or something was the thing to watch out for.
It’s why he’s three beers deep and bent over an inflatable pool toy, clinging to it as he stares into the bottom of the shallow end while Steve finishes pulling his trunks down off of his feet.
“Birthday spankings—” Steve’s voice filters through the static rising in Eddie’s ears as his heart goes fucking haywire. “—in your birthday suit!”
He’s not sure if it’s better that they’re alone, or if other people would’ve tempered this... thing—whatever cruel but sporting beast residing inside of Steve’s DNA, gravitating towards humiliating pranks. Steve tugs him closer—Eddie thinks he could cut and run, but then he’d be sprinting naked into Steve’s house, and that might be worse. The pool toy hides him, at least.
“Count ‘em,” Steve says, letting the backs of Eddie’s thighs bump into him before he holds the float steady. A gentle smack lands on Eddie’s ass, but given the way Steve’s big hand feels on Eddie’s cool wet skin, he thinks he could stand to go lighter.
“One,” Eddie croaks as a doomed thrill rushes up his spine.
He doesn’t think he’ll live this down, but at least he’s getting touched by his hottest friend.
“Yeah, you know the drill,” Steve says, and then starts up a perfect rhythm, alternating between Eddie’s ass cheeks.
By the time Eddie’s gasping “Twenty-three!”, his dick is hard, trapped against the pool toy, and his ass is sore.
“There. Nothing but good luck until your birthday next year,” Steve says, rubbing his palms over Eddie’s hot skin. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
Eddie can’t slide off of the inflatable or he’ll reveal his boner, and if he moves too much he might come anyway. He looks over his shoulder at Steve, truly speechless. He didn’t think he liked spanking at all—but here he is—breathless, pressing his thighs together to keep his balls squished up with his dick, hiding them from the sun, reordering his whole world view because he loved this.
“Well, with you anyway,” Steve continues, squeezing Eddie’s ass, pulling it open a little. Eddie tries to pull away, but Steve just grabs the other ass cheek and keeps his asshole exposed. “Oh—that’s where all of your hair is.”
A wave of mortification washes over him—then he’s cramming his arm into his mouth, biting down as he comes, grinding against the plastic underneath him.
rated t | 910 words | cw: smoking mentions | tags: good uncle wayne munson, wayne pov, time skips, corroded coffin origins and eventual fame
🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬
The ashtray was a gift.
Wayne had just quit smoking. He didn’t have the heart to look seven year old Eddie in the eyes and tell him that, though. He unwrapped it from the newspaper Eddie had taped around it, and nearly cried at the fact that he was important enough to him to get a handmade gift.
Besides, there’s plenty of uses for ashtrays, right?
—
It becomes useful when Wayne picks up the habit again.
1979. One of the worst years of his life.
It’s also the year that brings him Eddie.
He knows Al’s a mess without Ellen, but armed robbery with two counts of assault with a deadly weapon is inexcusable. To him and to the law. He didn’t even consider what this would do to Eddie.
Eddie is one of those kids who has a good heart and a big brain, but he struggles so much in school and with making friends. Wayne can’t understand how kids don’t see how funny he is. Kids are cruel.
At least he tells him about it, though. While Wayne smokes a few cigarettes before bed, Eddie sits on the edge of the porch and complains about the kids at school and the teachers at school and school itself. His grades aren’t bad, but they could be better. Wayne isn’t worried yet. The teachers sometimes send notes home about his behavior, but he figures as long as they aren’t calling, it can’t be too bad.
He cleans out the ashtray every Wednesday night while Eddie’s taking the trash to the edge of the gravel driveway. He should quit now that he has someone to take care of.
Maybe when Eddie’s a little bit older.
—
“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie comes tearing through the front door, nearly throwing it off its hinges.
“Eddie, what did I tell ya about slamming our door like that?” Wayne puts his beer on the counter and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Sorry! But Wayne!” Eddie grabs his shoulders. “I met these guys who can play instruments! For a band!”
The corner of Wayne’s mouth tilts up. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah! Jeff plays guitar and Frankie plays bass. They wanna start a band and asked me to play with them!”
Wayne’s smile grows. Finally.
Eddie’s pretty damn good at guitar. He can play by ear, which is good because Wayne can’t afford lessons, even with the discount he’d get because he bought the guitar from the same shop that offers them. He’s wanted to be in a band since he got the guitar last Christmas.
“Thats great, Ed. You guys gonna play soon?” Wayne uncrosses his arms and pats Eddie’s shoulder. “At one of their houses I assume.”
“Yeah, Jeff says they already play together in his garage while his parents are at work. He said I could ride the bus home with him tomorrow.”
“As long as Jeff’s parents are okay with it—“
“And! They play D&D too!”
Wayne nods along. He listens to Eddie talk about D&D almost every night. He doesn’t mind, he just feels bad he can’t really talk about it with him. He just can’t wrap his head around all that stuff. He smokes his nightly cigarettes while Eddie rattles about dungeons and, well, dragons. Among other things.
“Got yourself some good friends, sounds like.”
Eddie talks more about them and what they’re gonna do, how they’re gonna be rockstars as soon as they find a drummer and write their own stuff. Wayne smiles and nods along, giving him as much attention as he can while he makes them dinner.
He doesn’t even remember to smoke that night.
–
“Do airplanes let you take ashtrays on board?”
“In your bag is fine,” Eddie says over the phone. “They won’t know what it is, Wayne.”
Wayne’s been packing for over an hour and he feels dumb for even asking, but he just can’t leave it behind. He’ll only be gone a few days, but he can’t imagine it not being in his sight.
Even if he doesn’t smoke anymore.
He hasn’t had the heart to tell Eddie it doesn’t serve a purpose anymore. It’s just a decoration on the table by his armchair. He decided to quit about a year ago, when his friend at the plant got diagnosed with lung cancer.
He jokes all the time that he ain’t meant for living a long life, but it’s just a joke. He hopes he gets to live forever so he can keep watching Eddie shine.
Tomorrow’s the first night of their first headlining tour. They’ll be in Chicago, which is close enough he could’ve taken a bus or even rented a car, but Eddie insisted on using his big paycheck to fly him out for it. He didn’t argue too much.
He’s never flown anywhere, though, and he’s a bit nervous.
“Wayne.” Eddie’s voice is serious, but Wayne can hear a smile. “You don’t even smoke.”
“Who told you that?”
“Henderson.”
“He’s such a little shit,” Wayne says fondly. “Well, I still like to have it with me.”
“I swear you’re gonna be buried with that stupid thing.”
Wayne looks down at the ashtray, chipped around the edge in a few places and the paint has faded quite a bit, but it’s still in one piece. It’s just an ashtray. But it’s also the start of everything with Eddie in some ways. It’s one of his most prized possessions.
Prompt #10 - Waterbed | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Sex | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Established Relationship, Banter, Eddie Gets a Secondhand Waterbed, Steve is Less Than Thrilled
"I don't know," Steve says, standing in the hallway, holding up the middle of the garden hose, as Eddie drags it through the house, thanks to their propped open back door.
"C'mon, live a little, Harrington," Eddie says, forging ahead, "It was a steal."
Steve snorts, like he isn't sure this thing was worth anything. Let alone what Eddie paid.
He couldn't be more wrong. This is luxury. This is how rich people live.
At least Eddie thinks so.
"Do the rich all have waterbeds?"
"Absolutely not," Steve says. "My mother would find this the height of tacky."
"Well, then. We better get two."
Steve chuckles, and Eddie knows he's got him.
Now that Steve is begrudgingly on board, this should go much smoother.
They own a waterbed now.
"It's freezing," Steve says, disgruntled. Wiggling on the newly filled mattress, making Eddie jiggle on the other side of the bed as he rides the wave of Steve's movements. "It's like it's leeching all my body heat."
"There's a heater underneath! Give it a chance to work!"
"Uh, yeah," Steve says, sounding unconvinced.
"In the meantime let's get this baby rocking!" Eddie shouts, giving it a hard smack. "Let's put some motion in the ocean."
"I'm having second thoughts," Steve says.
"About the waterbed?" Eddie asks, feeling a little crestfallen.
"About you," Steve retorts dryly, and Eddie cackles.
He knows better.
"C'mon. Blowing off some of this steam will do you good.
"I'm not laying my back on that cold ass plastic."
Eddie rolls his eyes.
"I'll bottom, c'mon," Eddie says. Tucking his knees upwards.
"Oh, great, so I have to find leverage against this thing to do all the work? I get to drive my knees into the bottom frame? Sounds fun."
Eddie laughs. Steve's awfully high maintenance today.
"You can sit on my dick, I'll do the work."
Steve still looks displeased. But he caves. "Fine."
It's a rough ride.
Eddie's trying to thrust up into him, and they're just getting battered around. Up and down, and side-to-side. A rhythm is impossible to maintain.
It's like they are playing tug-of-war. And not in a good way, as both of them try to strong-arm the rhythm, the pace, and aren't very successful. Steve's huffing, annoyed, and Eddie's just gripping his hips, trying to get them in sync. It might be impossible.
They have good sex. That's never been a problem.
This? This might be a problem.
"Just stop moving!" Steve finally snaps, and Eddie stills his movements immediately.
"Yes, sir," Eddie snarks, and Steve places a hand in the center of Eddie's chest, and rolls his hips. Gently. Testing the waters, literally. The wave starts, but this time it's a softer roll towards the head of the bed and back down. Steve tilts his pelvis up, testing another small movement, and well, that's nice, too.
Steve catches the wave on the way back and shifts with it. Grinding down on Eddie's cock.
Oh.
It's free momentum. That's the secret. They've gotta move with the natural coasting motion the bed is making, not try to jackhammer it to their will.
Steve is figuring it out in real time. Eddie can see it all over his face as he concentrates. Eddie shouldn't be surprised. This is Steve's wheelhouse. The mechanics of movement. Eddie just stomps and flails and scampers through life.
Steve gives another roll, a light moan escaping from his parted lips.
"Okay," he crows with a grin, "I've got it now. Go with the flow."
"Did you piss the bed again?" Steve mutters, voice thick, full of sleep.
"That was one time and I was blackout drunk. You were there. Did you piss the bed?"
Steve makes an annoyed noise, and Eddie knows he's skating on thin ice at — 2:23 in the morning — while Steve's ass is wet.
"It's leaking," Steve says, stating the obvious.
"Are you sure it's not from you?" Eddie asks.
And the noise Steve makes is enough to wake Eddie fully.
"I might be leaking, but if it's down on the side of my thigh, we've got problems," Steve says, haughtily.
"Gotcha," Eddie says, rolling carefully out of the bed, and onto his feet as Steve sloshes around, following.
"It says to apply the patch while it's dry," Eddie says, holding up the instructions of the ancient waterbed patch kit that came with it. The overhead light is blinding at this time of night. Hostile, even.
Steve wipes the bladder with the towel again, and more water bubbles up. If looks could kill, Eddie would be dead.
"Well, that's easier said than fucking done," Steve snaps. If he doesn't get his eight hours of beauty sleep he's a fucking bear, and this has already taken the better part of an hour.
"Maybe we need to drain it."
Steve throws the towels down, hands finding his hips, "Do you know how many gallons of water are in this thing? We aren't draining it!"
Eddie holds his hands up, conceding.
"Just fucking help me. I'm gonna force this part upwards. You wipe it dry, then apply that godforsaken patch. Got it?"
"I got it," Eddie says, and Steve nods, trying to wrangle the heavy, vinyl waterbed mattress. Wrestling it. It looks impossible to move, it's so heavy. But, Steve places a knee beneath the spot of the hole strategically, forcing the spot with a hole up as high as he can, grabbing a slick fistful around it, shoving upwards.
"Now!" Steve yells, and Eddie springs into action. Drying the pinhole twice, just to make sure, and then sticking the patch down.
Steve lets go, and the mattress flaps back towards the sides of the bed frame with a thwack. Jiggling as it settles back into shape. Steve leans back on his haunches.
"Did it work?" Eddie asks, and Steve gets up, shedding his damp underwear, putting on a dry pair.
"Guess we'll find out," Steve says, "but you're sleeping on that side now."
Well, that seems fair.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Written for week 2 of the @steddiemicrofic three-year anniversary challenge
Prompt: years, 444 words
Rated: T
Tags: No UD AU; Rockstar Eddie; Hairstylist Steve; Eddie is a horny shit; Confident Steve
The salon is called The Hair.
Eddie rolls his eyes at the pink sign.
“Didn't you say he was a genius? Doesn't extend to naming stuff, obviously.”
Gareth sighs. “He's the best stylist in town, and you're lucky he agreed to see you. Let's go, he doesn't like waiting.”
“The fuck?” Eddie sputters as Gareth drags him inside. “I'm a fucking rockstar, I'm never late. The show starts when I arrive.”
“Okay, Gandalf,” says a voice.
Eddie freezes. Because damn, that was a solid comeback.
Also because it came from the most gorgeous man he has seen in his life. Perfectly styled caramel hair. Cheekbones that look like they were carved from marble. He's regarding them with his hands on his hips, the seams of his pink polo straining against the muscles of his arms.
On Eddie, another seam strains. Further south.
“Eddie and Gareth, right?” says the man. There's a name stitched into his polo, in the same cursive font as the sign outside. Steve.
“That's us,” Gareth nods. “It'll be ten years since our first number one hit next week, and we have that big photoshoot.”
Steve, who has been dancing around Eddie, lifts a strand of frizzy curls between two fingers.
“His last haircut was around the same time, I guess?”
“Fuck you!” Eddie blurts. “I did cut it. Like three years ago. Also, the hair is my trademark.”
Steve gives him a look. “This isn't a trademark, it's a cry for help. Give me two hours.”
He's lucky he's hot, Eddie thinks. He'd never agree to this otherwise.
*
“Done,” Steve declares, swivelling the chair around so Eddie can look at himself in the mirror. “What do you say?”
Eddie doesn’t say anything. For one thing, he’s still weirdly floaty from the feeling of Steve’s hands in his hair, Steve’s fingers turning his head, Steve’s voice telling him to hold still or sit straighter.
For another, his jaw is currently on the floor.
Gareth puts down his magazine and whistles through his teeth.
“Amazing! It looks like his hair but … good!”
Steve smiles, spritzing Eddie’s curls with something smelling of citrus and herbs. The bottle says it’s for a glossy finish.
“One of my easiest exercises. You like it?”
“It’s not horrible,” Eddie concedes, standing from his chair and grabbing a grinning Gareth to pull him out of the shop. It’s the understatement of the century and they all know it. “Call our management about the bill, yeah?”
“Will do,” Steve promises. “Make sure to come by for a touch-up soon. Preferably sooner than ten years from now.”
Eddie guesses he will. Just because the guy is hot, obviously.
rated m | 923 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: flirting, canon divergence, chrissy lives, jeff and chrissy on the run
🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️
It’s not a nice motel, but it’ll do.
His one and only job is to get Chrissy safely to Steve and Eddie’s temporary hideout in Nebraska. He didn’t think anything could be in Nebraska. Maybe that’s why they chose it for a hideout.
The room is cleaner than he expects and he’s grateful for it. Chrissy is nice, but she’s definitely used to a certain standard of living that most motels could never meet. She doesn’t look disappointed with this one.
“You can shower first if you want,” Jeff offers. They’ve been driving all day, taking extra turns and back roads to throw off anyone who might follow them. He didn’t mind too much except for the stress of looking in the rear view mirror every few miles and expecting a black SUV to be tailing them. “I’ll-“
He cuts himself off when she goes over to the bed and sits on it. She sinks a little and bounces back up, and then tilts back and forth a bit.
She giggles.
Jeff isn’t an idiot. Chrissy is beautiful. He’s also learned she’s incredibly nice and funny once she gets comfortable with you. It didn’t take him longer than crossing the state line of Indiana to develop a crush.
He didn’t think sharing a bed tonight would be a problem, but now that he sees her bouncing on what is clearly a waterbed, he’s not sure he’ll be able to sleep at all.
“Oh my gosh, my friend has one of these. It’s like being on a boat!” She giggles again as she bounces a bit more.
Jeff smiles at her. He can’t help it. She’s been pretty quiet for most of the trip. Obviously scared about the future, worried about having to make a new life for herself. Jeff would be scared, too. Shit, he is scared, and he’s just one step in her journey.
“Come here!” She waves him over with one hand and pats the bed next to her with the other. “It’s fun!”
Jeff’s pretty sure he’ll do anything to see her keep smiling, so he joins her. She nudges his shoulder and he bounces himself, which bounces her, and then they’re both laughing. They bounce more, even after Jeff stopped trying to, and eventually lose their balance, falling backwards on the bed.
He looks over to see her smiling up at the ceiling as both of their bodies keep moving to the rhythm the bed’s made.
When she looks over at him, he quickly looks up at the ceiling, hoping she doesn’t notice he was staring.
Her arm touches his, then her hand finds his and she laces their fingers together. He feels like he can’t breathe.
“Thank you for doing this,” she says quietly. There’s still a hint of a smile in her voice, but she’s gotten more serious now. “I know it’s a lot to take on. Risking yourself and everything. I just…”
“Needed to get out, I know.”
Jeff turns to look at her again and she doesn’t look nearly as sad as she did this morning. She’s almost glowing. Distance from Hawkins has clearly done wonders for her.
“Will you stay when we get there?”
“Oh.” Jeff breathes out. “Probably for a bit, so it’s not suspicious that I was only gone for a few days. But I have to get back to my parents.”
“Right.”
Her smile drops, but she doesn’t look away.
“Will you visit?” She asks. She almost sounds hopeful.
“Definitely. Once Steve and Eddie have a new place, I’ll probably bring more of their stuff to them,” Jeff says. “And I’m sure they’ll bring you with them.”
“What if they bring me somewhere else?”
“Then I’ll visit you there.”
He doesn’t know that he could, really. He has quite a bit of allowance money saved up, but he used some of it for this trip since Steve and Eddie pretty much had to start over and don’t have much to their name. If they take her somewhere he has to fly, he’d eat up a lot more of it. Maybe all of it. He doesn’t know how far they’ll go to keep her safe.
He’s pretty sure he’d go anywhere, though.
“You’re a good guy, Jeff.”
He can feel the heat on his face as she leans her head over to rest against his shoulder. He can’t help but lean his head down on top of hers.
“You wanna take a shower?” Jeff asks after they lay like that for a few minutes.
Chrissy sighs and stands up from the bed, laughing when she almost loses her balance from the water making sloshing noises as she moves.
She walks towards the bathroom and strips off her shirt. Jeff pretends not to look.
“I’ll be quick,” she says. When Jeff thinks it’s safe to look, he sees her taking off her pants. He doesn’t look away fast enough. She winks at him. He’s dead. “Or we could just both take one. Since there’s probably not much hot water.”
That could be true, but he’s fine with a cold one. Or he was, until this offer presented itself.
“Like…naked?” Jeff sits up.
“Well, yes. We do have to get clean,” Chrissy giggles again. It’s so cute. “Or maybe I read this wrong…”
“No!” Jeff stands up as quickly as he can. “I want to do that! Let’s shower!”
He tries really hard to focus on Chrissy naked in the shower with him instead of what they might do in the waterbed after.
Prompt #9 - Leg Warmers | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Clothed Sex | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, And Steve Harrington Decides to Drive Him Insane
Holy shit.
Eddie is frozen. Stuck behind the door, watching through the glass. Steve is on his back, doing hip thrusts, grabbing both of his heels, bouncing, legs spread wide.
Then he pushes his legs upwards, weight resting on his shoulders, as he rolls backwards. Feet behind his head as Jane Fonda gives instructions on the TV.
Robin is there, too, doing the same thing. But that's not of importance. Not when Steve is bent like a fucking pretzel in his neon shorts, leg warmers on his legs. Like they had to get dressed up to do this workout.
Steve's shorts have slid down with his legs up that way, and Eddie wants to fucking mount him. Wants to keep him bent in half, maybe forever.
Eddie reaches down to adjust himself in his jeans, hand cupping, squeezing, trying to relieve the pressure, and Steve must catch the movement, because he smiles at Eddie, wiggling his fingers, and Eddie? Well, Eddie runs.
He's going to have to leave town. That's all there is to it. He's going to pack up his shit and go before he has to face Steve with Steve knowing what he must know. That Eddie was watching. That Eddie was turned on by him bent over, ass in the air.
That Eddie clearly wants to fuck him.
Nope. He's not living through that.
He'll leave town. Change his name. Eddie Munson? Who's that? Never heard of the guy.
Eddie is still looking around his room, deciding what he needs to take with him when he does this fleeing, when he hears the front door open and close.
"Eddie?" Steve calls out, and Eddie wishes he could disappear.
Steve pushes open Eddie's bedroom door, the one in the new house, the one that isn't quite home. Not yet. Not ever. And Eddie is mortified. He should have just died at the teeth of the bats. That would have been preferable to this.
He never asked to be friends with Steve Harrington.
He never asked to be attracted to him, or men in general, for that matter.
Eddie never asked for a lot of things he's been saddled with in life.
"Eddie?" Steve asks, voice closer, right behind him now.
"I'm sorry," Eddie says, refusing to turn and look at him.
"What for?" Steve asks, his hand now gripping Eddie's arm, turning him. He's still in his stupid workout gear, and Eddie just stares at his feet. At the scrunched leg warmers around his ankles.
"Why are you dressed like that?" Eddie chokes out, because he's never seen Steve in anything like it. Steve's all man. With the chest hair, and the big hands. He's not neon green and hot pink. It's just not him.
Steve laughs, "Robin thought it'd be fun. I don't know. We just decided to try them out with one of Robin's workout tapes. Jane Fonda. She's a babe," Steve says, and Eddie doesn't think Jane Fonda is a babe. He thinks Steve is a babe.
And there lies the problem.
"Or so Robin says," Steve adds, and Eddie still can't look at him. "Why'd you run away?"
Steve must know. He has to.
Eddie shakes his head.
And Steve's hand settles on Eddie's hip, tugging him closer. This is just gonna make everything so much worse, but Eddie allows himself to be pulled further into Steve's orbit.
"Did you like what you saw?" Steve asks, and Eddie can't deny it. Can't say anything with Steve's thumb finding a sliver of bare skin beneath Eddie's sleeveless tee, the arm holes cut far too large. Rubbing. Caressing him.
"Eddie," Steve says, breath ghosting across Eddie's cheek.
He's too close.
Eddie wants him closer, still.
And Eddie's impulsive side wins. He's moving, suddenly, probably startling Steve. But Steve goes with it. Allowing Eddie to push him onto his back, flopping on the new mattress that Eddie hasn't even gotten broken in yet.
Legs falling open. Hips tilted. The little nylon shorts, slipping up his hairy thighs, pooling at his crotch.
Eddie pushes Steve's legs further upward, fingers gripping his thigh as he bends him backwards, pressing his dick, hard and trapped in his jeans, against Steve's ass.
Steve moans, a hoarse, deep sound, and Eddie thrusts against him.
"Is this what you wanted when you put on this outfit?" Eddie asks, voice ragged, breathless. "Did you want to drive me crazy? Did you want me to fuck you?"
Steve whines, clutching at Eddie's messy sheets.
"Unintended consequences," Steve says, meeting Eddie's eyes, and Eddie rubs against him harder. Then, slides his hand down into the leg hole of those loose shorts, hand curling around Steve's big dick. Hard and trapped by his underwear. Eddie rubs him, thumb grazing the sensitive head of Steve's cock as Steve clenches all his muscles. Eyes dark, pupils blown wide open.
Eddie keeps jerking him off through his briefs as he ruts against his ass, Steve's feet swaying in the air.
It's absurd.
It's also the hottest thing Eddie's ever experienced, and he's not even naked.
"Gonna fuck you just like this someday," Eddie says, running his mouth, "Gonna keep you bent over and begging."
Steve comes, body tensing, a long whine escaping his throat.
And Eddie thrusts against his ass a few more times, before making a mess of his own boxers. Breathing heavy as he backs off, and gently lowers Steve's shaking legs to the mattress.
Steve's face is flushed, glistening with a sheen of sweat, and Eddie leans forward and kisses his forehead. Steve doesn't stand for that though. No, he grabs Eddie by the back of the neck, crushing their lips together, his tongue sliding into Eddie's mouth, brushing against Eddie's.
Eddie kisses him until Steve pulls back, still holding Eddie's neck, "You promise?"
And Eddie isn't following.
"Promise what?" Eddie asks.
"That you're gonna keep me bent over and begging," Steve says, and Eddie groans.
Fuck. He's in over his head.
Oh well.
Guess he'll drown.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Prompt #8 - "Where's the Beef?" | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: AU, Office Setting, Meet Cute, Misunderstanding, Free Donuts!
"Eddie, can we chat?"
Eddie looks up from his desk, er, well, the desk he'd commandeered months ago. He nods, wondering if the jig is finally up.
Steve Harrington is standing in the doorway of his office, a tight smile plastered on his face. And oh yeah, Eddie's definitely fucked.
Holding open his arm, Steve gestures towards the chair across from him. Eddie takes it. Steve's face is confused. Kind, too. But mostly confused.
"Eddie," Steve starts, tapping away on his keyboard. Stuttered little henpecks that Eddie finds endearing. "After our audit, I can't seem to find any files submitted by you. Not for a while. Not ever, actually."
Eddie grins, in a way that he hopes looks impish, throwing up his hands in a 'what can you do?' motion.
"And everybody has to pull their weight. I can't have someone on the payroll that isn't contributing. Have you done anything?"
Eddie shakes his head.
"So, um, I'm really sorry to do this. But I'm going to have to let you go."
"You can't," Eddie says plainly.
"Eddie, I don't have a choice. There's literally nothing from you! You're doing no work! Where's the beef? Not here, not from you."
Eddie laughs. Steve's funny. In a dorky way.
"You can't fire me," Eddie says again, playing with him, just a little. He's gotten to know Steve, and has liked him a lot.
"I am, and I will. You are fired," Steve says, but doesn't seem all that sure about it.
Eddie finally smiles, "Steve. I don't work here. I've never worked here. I'm here for the free cake and good conversation."
Steve's brow creases, confusion coloring his features, "No. That's not. I put you at that desk."
Eddie nods. Yep. He definitely did that.
"You were a temp?" Steve says, voice lilting up as though he's unsure.
"Yeah, just not for you," Eddie answers, pointing to the other side of the building, "I was a temp over there, and you guys were having donuts, and I wanted donuts, and then I had a desk. It's a nice desk."
"Am I even paying you?"
Eddie shakes his head.
"Then, what do you do for work?" Steve asks, "You're here every damn day."
Eddie laughs, "I'm a musician. At night. And I'm not always here. Just Fridays. Some Tuesdays."
Steve laughs at that, running his hand down his face. Clearly exasperated.
Then, he stands, walking towards his office door, closing it with a heavy snick.
Eddie stands, too. It was just a joke. He'll pay for the cake if that's what it takes. As long as Steve doesn't call the cops. As long as he isn't trespassed and arrested.
As long as Steve isn't really mad at him.
"I didn't mean to upset you," Eddie says in a rush. "I'm sorry. I like you. I didn't mean to keep coming in."
Steve stalks towards him. Eddie keeps talking.
"I pretended I worked in the field four days a week. Then, I'd come in here, enjoy casual Friday and eat whatever the employee snack of the week was. Steve. I'm sorry."
Steve places a hand in the center of Eddie's chest. Fisting his casual Friday t-shirt.
"Eddie Munson," Steve says, then furrows his brow, "You are Eddie Munson, right?"
"I am, I've never lied about anything else, and technically I didn't even say that. You did. You gave me a desk and I just took it. I liked you, and you had donuts, so I went along."
Steve laughs, and it sounds a little unhinged.
"Do you know that you've driven me crazy?" Steve asks.
"What—?"
He's kissed. Well and fully kissed, and Eddie leans into it. Hands finding Steve's back, pulling him closer. Kissing him, or being kissed, Eddie can't be sure which. But he likes it. He likes Steve. Steve's the reason Eddie kept coming back, because Eddie loves seeing Steve every Friday.
He'd help him run the copier, or volunteer to go with him to pick up the donuts or cake. Pizza. Tacos. Bagels. They've had everything.
And he's had fun. So much fun.
Steve pulls back, licking his lips, eyes looking a little wild, "Do you have any idea how long I wanted to do that? But I couldn't. Because you worked here, Eddie."
Eddie gives him a sheepish smile.
But Steve shakes his head, "All this time. All this time I could have asked if you wanted to go out for a drink. Or dinner. Anything. But I didn't. Because it would have been inappropriate."
"I'm sorry," Eddie says, because he never thought Steve liked him like that. Eddie had a crush. But what's new? Eddie always has a crush on people he shouldn't. And sure, Steve was nice and friendly while Eddie flirted shamelessly, but Eddie never thought he had a chance. Not even once, or he'd…
"Just," Steve says, looking exhausted, "Do you want to get a fucking drink?"
Eddie laughs, guffaws actually, nodding. "I'd love that."
"Well, good. Now, are you gonna go with me to pick up the build your own sundae bar?"
"Absolutely," Eddie confirms, bowing, holding out his arm for Steve to go first.
"And then you'll tell all your co-workers what you've been doing?"
"Uh," Eddie says, sheepish, "I'm pretty sure they already know."
Steve shakes his head, but huffs out a laugh.
Before
Eddie sees the donuts being carried in. Box after white box.
And well, Eddie wants a donut. So, he follows the handsome man in the suit into the meeting room, and takes a seat along the window. Out of the way. Hoping to go unnoticed.
Eddie gets his donut. And then a second, but when he tries to sneak away, he's caught.
"Steve Harrington, CEO," Steve Harrington, CEO says.
Eddie nods.
"Eddie. Eddie Munson," Eddie offers.
"Welcome, Eddie. It's always nice to see a new face. Do you have a desk yet?"
Eddie shakes his head. He most certainly does not.
"Well, let me find you one."
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Notes: This was actually inspired by this proverb from Welcome to Nightvale, haha.
for @corrodedcoffinfest day 9 prompt 'leg warmers'
rated m | 990 words | cw: implied suicidal thoughts (very brief, not detailed) | tags: angst with a happy ending, good friend steve harrington, hurt/comfort, coming out mentioned
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
Steve slams on the brakes. “Fuck!”
There’s a person on the side of the road. Just sitting there. Like it’s not snowing and nearly midnight.
What the fuck.
He puts on his emergency lights because if there’s anything Hopper’s driving lessons taught him, it’s not to fuck around when you’re in an emergency situation.
“Are you okay?” He yells as he gets out of the car, slamming the door shut.
“I’m fine.”
“Shit. Munson?” Steve kneels down in front of him and reaches a hand out. Eddie flinches. “You need a ride, man?”
“No. I’m fine.”
He’s shivering and his hair is soaking wet, probably from snow falling on it for who knows how long. What little he can see of his face is pale with red splotches like he’s got a rash or was crying. Steve’s pretty sure if he stays outside for too long, he’ll die.
“Dude, it’s freezing out here and you’re soaked. At least warm up a little in my car,” Steve tries, though it seems to fall on deaf ears. Eddie practically growls at him to go away, but Steve is stubborn. “I’m not gonna be witness to your death, man.”
“Then leave.”
Steve’s shocked into silence for a moment. Does he want to freeze to death? Seems like a pretty terrible way to go. If he actually wanted to die, he’d–
Well, maybe he thinks differently than Steve.
“No.”
Finally, Eddie looks up. Probably more out of frustration than anything else, but it lets Steve take him in better.
He has been crying. His teeth are chattering. His cheeks are bright red, but his lips are almost blue.
“I’m not letting you freeze to death. No one deserves that,” Steve continues. He grabs Eddie’s arm and tugs him up, not surprised when he can’t seem to stand on his own. Who knows if frostbite has already settled somewhere, or if he is dehydrated or starving. “The heat’s on and I’m sure I have something to help warm you up a little in the trunk.”
He’s actually not sure, but he’ll check anyway.
Eddie doesn’t put up much of a fight as he leads him to the passenger seat, but he’s probably not really able to. He seems too weak to waste energy on trying to run away. He’s glad he’s the one who found him and not someone who would hurt him.
Once he’s settled in the front seat, Steve closes the door and goes to open the trunk. He usually has a spare jacket at least hanging around, or a scarf left behind from one of the kids, maybe. Anything that might help warm him up.
He moves the nail bat out of the way, and the bag of clothes he’s supposed to bring to the donation center for Dustin’s mom. None of that will fit Eddie. He sees something in the back that looks like it might be sweater material, but it’s small. Maybe a kid did leave a scarf back here.
He reaches for it.
Leg warmers. How the hell does he have leg warmers and not a jacket?
He doesn’t know who they belong to or why they’re in his trunk, but it’s gotta be better than nothing. He could put them on his arms or something.
Steve closes the trunk and gets in the driver seat, holding out the leg warmers as if it’s a normal thing to provide someone shivering in the passenger seat.
“What are these?” Eddie asks through chattering teeth. That’s probably a good sign. Or maybe it’s not. Steve isn’t familiar with hypothermia signs. Eddie takes them and snorts. “I don’t think leg warmers are gonna help much.”
“It’s all I have. I’m taking you home,” Steve puts the car in drive, ready to pull back onto the road when Eddie’s shaking hand covers his arm. “What?”
“I can’t go home,” Eddie says, eyes wide and lip trembling. He looks scared. “Just take me to…I guess my friend Jeff’s house?”
“Where does Jeff live?”
“Same neighborhood as the Wheelers,” Eddie still looks terrified, like he might try to jump out of the car if Steve doesn’t agree. “I can get in without waking anyone up.”
Steve shakes his head. “No, I’ll just take you to mine.”
Eddie doesn’t argue, but he’s pretty sure the second he takes his eyes off him when they get to his house, he’ll run for it. He might chase him down. He might not.
The leg warmers sit unused on the center console. Steve doesn’t push.
–
Eddie’s snoring on his couch.
He looks warm and peaceful.
Steve nudges his shoulder gently to wake him. “Hey, man. I made some eggs and toast if you’re hungry.”
Eddie turns onto his stomach and lets out a loud snore.
Maybe later, then.
–
It takes a few days of Eddie quietly moving through Steve’s house before he finally seems to realize Steve isn’t gonna push him to talk or leave.
“My uncle found out I’m…uh,” Eddie breathes out. “Gay.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Eddie sighs. “He didn’t do anything. Didn’t even say anything to me. I just ran.”
Steve doesn’t really know Wayne Munson well, and he’s pretty sure that’s on purpose. Wayne keeps to himself, always has. But he took Eddie in a while ago when he easily could’ve said no. He donates food every Thanksgiving even though he’s working overtime just to pay his own bills. He helps the elderly people in the park mow their lawns over the summer.
“You worried he’s gonna hit you or something?” Steve asks.
“Not really. Just don’t think he’d want me around anymore.”
Steve hums. “Why don’t you talk to him?”
Eddie frowns. “Are you kicking me out?”
“Yeah, man,” Steve laughs. “Your uncle is probably worried about you. And he loves you. Don’t run from that.”
Steve takes him home later that day and winks at Eddie when Wayne crushes him in a hug.
