My 1,000 follower giveaway fic for the wonderful @allsteddie. Thank you so much for entering. It was super fun to do this one. I got almost 7,000 words out of this bad boy.
This is based on their own post, which you should totally check out.
It didn’t happen on purpose. Wasn’t a choice he necessarily made so much as a natural result of being Steve Harrington, the dumbest guy in the room.
“Do you have to be told everything?”
Yeah, maybe he kind of does.
He always knew he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and he was fine with that. He didn't want to be a nerd, a loser, someone people ignored in the lunch room. Being smart was a social death sentence. Having a nice car, good hair, Levi’s perfectly shrunk to fit and a pretty girl on your arm were the way to go. The easiest path.
Until Nancy Wheeler stole his heart. Until Johnathan Byers knocked his head on straight. Until he opened his god damned eyes and saw his friends for the raging assholes they were.
And then it was monsters and a broken heart and kids that needed looking after and suddenly being the dumbest guy in the room was the worst thing a guy could be. Everyone’s ass was constantly on the line. There was no time for kindergarten-level questions. No time for Steve Harrington to catch up in a room full of geniuses.
So he stopped asking, after a while. Not entirely, just when the groups were big. Especially if Dustin or Nancy had their minds set on something, or if Mike was feeling some kind of way.
His grandma had a saying: “Don’t waste your breath on someone who won’t spare their time.” He didn’t really get it when she was still alive, but he found himself thinking about it when he was feeling particularly bad for himself.
They didn’t want to hear what he said, but maybe he didn’t really want to share with them anymore either.
“Hey, man, budge up.” Group gatherings had become the norm after the last showdown. They used to go their own way, pairing off and convening in small groups in the aftermath of interdimensional horrors, but this time has been different. It had been so human. Something about it made them draw close in ways they hadn’t before.
With Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler out of town for the weekend, it was a no-brainer that they would all convene over the long weekend, people flowing in and out of the door, including Eddie Munson, Steve’s new shadow.
The younger man moved his feet, making room for Eddie to ease himself onto the cushions, resting his cane on the arm of the couch. Steve had been on his own, flipping absently through a magazine as people gathered in the kitchen.
He didn’t want to be “broody,” as Robin put it, but it had started to become suffocating, all that talking. They had been debating the merits of going into town next week, and while the beamer was no doubt going to be one of the vehicles in use, he knew his input wasn’t needed.
He had even been feeling brave when he first got there. Surely, this was a conversation he could participate in. It was just about driving. Steve was good at driving. He drove those snot-nosed kids all around town.
But as soon as he’d opened his mouth, Dustin had said something about “navigational skills” that set his teeth on edge. He’d proven to the little twerp more than once that his directional skills were more than up to par, but he didn’t feel like fighting against that tone today. It wasn’t like it would change his mind.
Nancy gave him one of those tight lipped smiles that meant he wouldn’t find any help in her corner, and Lucas just shrugged, taking another swig from his can of Coke. He rolled his eyes, but took the hint.
“Whatcha got there, Steve-o?” Eddie asked, a slightly shaky arm bringing his hand up to tap on the cover. The muscles were still weak, but he was making good progress. Steve couldn’t help but blush. Sports Illustrated wasn’t exactly high art.
“Nothing much. Just ‘balls in laundry baskets,” he said, calling back to Eddie’s many high school tirades. He expected the other man to laugh and agree, but to his surprise, he didn’t.
“Now, now, now, Stevie. I will have you know that I have recently been educated on the occasional merit of the great sports ball. I wouldn’t be so quick to knock it.” And if that didn’t knock his socks off, nothing would.
And so the night went. Steve talked about sports. Eddie egged him on. And no one asked his opinion on their trip to Indianapolis.
—---
Summer came all at once in Hawkins, just like it did every year. Spring was a short week at the end of May, and then it was all blistering sun and clear skies. Where they used to be spent in the pool or on the shores of Lover’s Lake, the summer of 86’ was spent in cheap lawn chairs sprawled outside the Munson trailer, feet fighting for space in one of three mismatched kiddie pools they dragged outside.
“And so I told her she wasn’t listening to me and she slammed the door in my face. She didn’t even bother to get up! She used her powers! Can you believe that?”
Mike had once again flubbed it with El. They weren’t even dating anymore, but he kept putting his foot in his mouth around her. Alternating between giving her his unconditional support and insinuating what it is he thought she should do with her life. He meant well, but he could be a real idiot sometimes.
Steve bit his tongue, tuning into the conversation happening in the other pool where the girls were pretending the boys didn’t exist.
“Mike is such a mouth breather. He doesn’t get a say in what you do with your time, especially now that you aren’t together.” Max griped, dark glasses hiding milky eyes staring right up at the sun.
“You don’t ever let a man tell you what to do. This is a free country,” Erica chimed in, kicking one of her feet in the direction of the boys.
And all the while Steve didn’t say a word. In his own kiddie pool, Robin and Nancy were getting into a heated argument about something called the Bell Jar, which Steve had next to no knowledge of. It sounded like it was serious, though.
It sounded like something he had no room to speak on.
So he didn’t.
He counted the seconds in his head, even if he knew it was ridiculous. It made him feel like a kid, how much he wanted someone to just look at him, talk to him, see him. Sometimes, before he started middle school and learned that wanting your mom’s attention was for babies, he would hold his breath with his eyes closed in bed, willing his mom to sense that her only son was about to suffocate and come running in to hold him.
One-hundred and ten, one-hundred and eleven, one-hundred and twelve…
Maybe he should try it, just for fun. A little trip down memory lane.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head back.
One, two, three, four…
Still, he couldn’t help but smile at the sounds of his family, of safety, surrounding him. They almost didn’t have this. Years of terror finally come to an end.
Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five…
His swimmer’s lungs made it almost too easy, the burn for oxygen only just starting to tickle his lungs.
Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty-
“ACK, what the hell?” He turned in his seat, almost toppling the cheap thing over as his feet kicked out and his breath let out in one big rush.
Eddie was standing over him, a wicked grin shamelessly taking over his face. He had a cool beer in each hand, which he had just pressed into the back of Steve’s neck.
He pulled up a hot pink chair of his own. They were going for 50 cents at Melvald's, no doubt on sale because of their atrocious color. The other man handed him one of the beers, fingers oddly bereft of rings. Steve couldn’t help but stare.
“Sorry, I couldn't help it,” he said. “What are the twerps up to now?”
—---
DnD nights were their own special kind of hell. If he had become quiet on a normal day, he might as well have been a statue for all he spoke on those nights.
He’d been roped into (told he would be) holding Hellfire since the school shut it down. Dustin wasn’t giving up the fight, not by a long shot, but the group had insisted that they needed a place to host campaigns in the meantime.
Lucas had ultimately been the deciding factor, pulling out the sad puppy eyes that Steve couldn’t say no to. All he had to do was say something about “safe spaces” and “how cool it would be” for Steve to host so his parents would let Erica come too, and he’d had no choice but to agree.
Even if he often wished they’d come up with an alternative.
He just didn’t fit in with the rest of Hellfire. Eddie’s friends were nice enough, but they looked at him like they were expecting him to revert back to the boy he was three years ago. Any plates he handed out were treated with suspicion, like maybe he’d spit in them.
And the kids. Jesus Christ. If he’d thought they’d had attitudes before, it was nothing compared to how they could get on a Hellfire night. Any perceived interruption was shut down swiftly and without remorse, usually with a pointed jab at Steve’s inability to understand the nuances of the game.
He learned early on to make himself scarce, hosting duties notwithstanding.
But today, Eddie was in excellent form, and Steve couldn’t help but be drawn into the dining room. He’d accepted two months ago that what he felt for Eddie was more than friendship, and while it scared him, it wasn't something he wanted to shy away from either. Eddie was like a balm to his soul.
He stood, unseen, in the doorway. Eddie was hunched over, voice low and alluring, drawing everyone in the room into his narrative.
“The battle ebbs, enemies strewn about, but stone slabs have not moved, leaving you lost in the dark.”
“Shit!” Dustin yells, throwing his hands up and leading back, “What the fuck are we supposed to do now? Without the key, thank you, by the way, Sir Galant, we’re stuck!”
The commotion continues, Gareth coming to his own defence and the rest of the party bickering. Eddie is so clearly pleased with himself, leaning back in his chair with steepled hands, watching the chaos he’d created.
He leans back in, making the faint sound of wind through his teeth. Steve instinctively tries to do the same, but he knows it doesn’t have the same effect. The party slowly picks up on the sound, going deathly silent as they lean their heads in close.
“What is that?” Will whispers to the others.
Eddie continues in a low voice, effortlessly commanding the attention of the room. “The soft sound of a breeze tickles the ear.” The party rolls perception checks. “Will the Wise, a soft flash catches the corner of your eyes, leading your gaze up, up, up. A small pinprick of light, a small sliver of light, winks back at you from the high dome of the cave. What will you do?”
The party starts strategizing, shooting ideas back and forth on how to scale the walls. If they could blast through or teleport.
The laugh he lets out is completely by accident. It was just so obvious. It was a trap. How could they not see it?
He doesn’t even realize what he’s done until nine pairs of eyes snap his way.
“What do you want, Steve? This is important and you’re interrupting.” It’s Mike, because of course it is, but in the end, it doesn’t really matter who said it, because they all seem to agree with the sentiment
He should say nothing. He should swallow his tongue and choke on it, just like he had been for the past six months. He should scoff and walk away and pretend like the brush off didn’t burn.
But it was just so obvious, and they couldn’t see it, and he could. This was his chance to get a stupid one up. To show people that he wasn’t as empty in the head as they seemed to think he was.
“Nothing. It’s just that it’s obviously a tr-” And that’s as far as he gets.
“Steve. You’re interrupting a big moment here. Can you just go?” And that would be Dustin. Because of course it is. He’s one of Steve’s favorite people in the world, his brother, and no one can get under his skin like him.
Steve opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.
Everyone is just looking at him. Waiting for his move. Waiting for him to get a clue and shut his mouth for good.
He turns on his heel and walks away. He doesn’t look back, even as some of the kids call out to him, clamoring over themselves to apologize. Even as he hears a “not cool” from Ricky, of all people.
Not even when he hears the scrape of Eddie’s chair on his mom’s prized hardwood floor, the clack of his cane trailing behind him.
“Stevie, hey, hold on a second.” Steve says nothing. There’s nothing to say, not even to Eddie.
He kept walking, picking up the speed. He knew it was a dick move, that Eddie had no hope of keeping up, especially once he hit the stairs, but he needed the easy out. He couldn’t face this right now, the hot heat of humiliation making his skin itch. He didn’t want Eddie’s pity. Not right now.
He closed his bedroom door behind him, sliding down until his ass hit the floor. He pressed his ear against the wood, listening as Eddie yelled up the stairs.
“Steve? Stevie! Fuck!.” The sound of Eddie’s cane banding against the wall like an outraged gentleman in an old-timey movie usually made him smile, but it wasn’t enough this time. It was just another reminder that he’d fucked something up again.
The sound of distant arguing drifted up under his door. He could feel the timber of Eddie’s voice in his chest, hear the faint clattering of game pieces and notebooks being shoved back into bags.
Steve bit his tongue, hard. He wanted to scream. Wanted to throw something. Wanted to ask why things always had to go this way for him?
Every time he opened his mouth, he ruined something.
“I guess you’re just a little screw up like your father.”
“Hang out with you and Eddie, the freak, Muson? Yeah, I’ll pass.”
“Dustin Henderson. Yeah. Curly hair, great hair, small.”
“Let’s just pretend we’re normal teenagers for the night.”
It’s past time for him to take the god damn hint for good.
The house fell silent, and Steve closed his eyes.
—-
It all happened so quickly.
Hellfire nights were Eddie’s sanctuary. His safe space. The one place in his life where he was in complete control. He set the stage, and everyone else danced.
Getting to host in within the pristine walls of the Harrington house just added to the experience. He got the dual pleasure of getting to defile the space with his ‘satanic rituals’ and, more importantly, got to bask in the presence of one of his favorite people in the world.
Eddie was no longer ashamed to admit to himself or any of his friends that he was down bad for the other boy. How could he not be? He’d always been smoking hot, but now he was also sweet, and badass, and smart, and kind. Kinder than Eddie could have imagined in his own unique, exasperated, self-sacrificial way.
One night a week, every week, he got to bask in two of his three favorite things.
He knew his friends weren’t jazzed about the idea of Steve, and he had been starkly aware of the kids' increasing disregard for their once-revered babysitter, but he didn’t think it would result in this.
“Can you just go?
It was sharp enough to cut into his heart from the other side of the table. So pointed. Direct. For the crime of laughing at the wrong moment.
Steve’s face does that complicated thing Eddie has come to understand means he’s biting his tongue and hiding his emotions. It’s an unfortunately common sight these days, the other man biting his tongue bloody. Eddie couldn’t understand.
Well, he could. He could see it. Hear it. Every day. The way their friends, their fucked up little family, treated Steve like the yappy dog no one really wanted around. Hauling him around like it was their burden in life, talking about him like the sound of his voice grated their ears.
It made him burn. He could never take an injustice lying down, it wasn’t in his nature.
He had been a fool to let himself roll over this one time. He should have known better. He’d always had friends, but this was the first big family he had ever been a part of. The idea of keeping everyone happy, going with the flow, had won out in the end.
He eased his conscience by seeking Steve out, not that he could keep himself away if he tried. Steve was smart in ways Eddie wasn’t. He saw life in a way that the people in their group didn’t, for better or for worse. For all their differences, Eddie knew he could never get tired of the other man’s company.
If the party didn’t want to listen, Eddie was more than happy to take their place.
But it wasn’t enough. One bandaid couldn’t hold the damn back forever.
Steve turns on his heel, not saying a word, and Eddie is left to scramble after him. He’s closing in, so damn close, until he hits those damn stairs. Curse stairs. Stairs are his new mortal enemy. He is going to dedicate the rest of his life to replacing stairs world wide and eradicating them from all homes. Starting with this one.
“Steve? Stevie! Fuck!” The best part of having a cane is that it’s an extension of his being. Banging on the base of the stairs feels like saying fuck with his arm. He stares up, sweating a little from the sudden exertion before tuning back in to the commotion he left behind.
“Eddie, come on. Steve will be fine!” Dustin is saying, acting like he hadn’t just humiliated his best friend in front of everyone.
“Dustin! Not cool.” He hears Lucas say, the sound of a hat landing on the floor.
“It’s not even a big deal. Steve will be fine in, like, ten minutes. We can keep going.” Mike says, trying to keep the ball rolling
“Uh, I don’t know, man. That kind of killed the vibe,” Gareth responds.
There is so much noise and so much bullshit. Nonsense. None of it mattered. None of it was about Steve, not really. Not in the way that mattered, and he was so fucking done.
“Shut up! Just shut up!” Silence descends. This is his stage, and he’s going to make these idiots dance.
“Eddie…” Will. Poor Will was caught in the middle with his tender heart and his loyalty to his friends. He’s not Eddie’s target here, but they’re all going to hear it.
“You all,” he pauses, the space filling with anticipation, “are a party of imbecilic barbarians, if I ever met them.” A few protests rise up, but they are cut off with a sharp wave of his hand. It’s not their turn yet. Eddie is always first in the initiative order here.
“When did our heroes become so heartless? Hm? Did the splendor of victory make us above the simple kindness of the everyday? Hollow glory speakers are all I see at this table.” He smacks the wood of the dining table for emphasis.
“What are you-”
“Steve is our friend, and you’ve all been treating him like shit for weeks, months.” The pause invites them to speak, to defend themselves, but they don’t. Just as he planned.
He lowers his voice. Leaving behind the theatrics and letting the raw anger and hurt do all the hard work for him. “When was the last time someone in this room asked Steve a question?” They all look at each other, at a loss.
“When was the last time someone in this room asked Steve how he was doing?” Nothing.
“When was the last time he even tried to talk to you?” No one will look him in the eye.
“When was the last time he opened his mouth to say something and no one in this room told him to shut up?” The silence in the room is absolute. He almost feels bad for how guilty Dustin looks in this moment, but it means his message hit. The kids share furtive looks, and the guys share annoyingly knowing glances. To be fair, this wasn’t really a conversation for them, but it couldn’t have waited. He just wishes it didn’t show his hand so badly.
“You little gremlins have exactly one chance to apologize, and it won’t be right now. Go home. Think of a good apology, and get Nancy and Robin on board too. Don’t contact Steve until I tell you to.” They stare wide eyed and unmoving.
Eddie stamps his cane hard on the floor. “What are you waiting for? Go.” And they do. They all scramble to grab their stuff, murmuring fervently to each other as they go.
Jeff walks up to him, mostly undisturbed by Eddie’s show, too used to his friend’s antics. “We got them. You take care of things here.” He pats his shoulder, kind enough not to do more than smirk at Eddie’s protective display.
“Thanks, man.” He watches distantly as the party finishes cleaning and heads out the door, mind already back upstairs with Steve.
The stairs are just as daunting as they always are, but this is important. He takes them one at a time, hauling himself up with the banister. The muscles in his legs are starting to shake by the time he gets to the top, but he can’t help the tingle of pride that reaching the top brings him.
Breathing deep, he knocks lightly at the door. He can see Steve’s shadow blocking the light under the door. “Hey, Stevie,” he pauses, waiting for some kind of response he knew he wouldn’t get. “I told the kids to fuck off.” He can’t join Steve on the floor, not if he wants to get up, but he leans his forehead on the door.
“Just, screw them, you know? I love the little shits, but ignore them.” He listens to the breathing on the other side, labored like maybe he’d been holding it again. He wonders if Steve realizes that Eddie has noticed his new habit. “You deserve to be heard, Steve, and whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll listen.”
He waits, just in case, but he knows he won’t be getting any kind of answer today. He raps on the door in a silent goodbye, and smiles at the two small knocks he gets in reply.
—---
His phone started to ring less than an hour after Eddie left, but Steve ignored it. He was out of words. Where he used to have to bite his tongue, he now felt almost alarmingly free. He was done, and that was it.
So here he was, a week and a half later, still stuck in the house. Without the job at the radio to keep him occupied and with employment in Hawkins all but stalled until repairs finished, it’s not like he had anything pressing to attend to. This is the first time in his life he was ever truly grateful to be a trust fund kid.
But the food was running out. He was officially out of eggs and his Brita has been in need of a new filter for weeks.
Not wanting to run the risk of running into any of his friends, he decided to take the beemer two towns over instead of the Big Buy. Not that anyone would care. Not a single person had knocked on his door. The calls had all stopped by the second day. It had been a week and three days of just him and his thoughts, no words spoken, even to the walls of his home.
Clearly, everyone was excited to be done with Steve. The kids probably told everyone the good news. Even Robin.
And that one stung the worst. Robin was his best friend. His soulmate. She had never been the problem. She could talk and talk and talk and yes, maybe he wasn’t able to get even half of the mileage out of a conversation as she could, but she listened. She reacted and played off him and maybe they hadn’t been as close as he would have liked these past months, but she was always there for him. It wasn’t her fault she had a girlfriend and college on the horizon, but it was looking more and more like she was taking the opportunity to get rid of him, too.
He drove with the windows down, letting the wind be his voice. Springsteen blasted from the speakers, catching on the air.
He thought of Eddie the entire way.
Eddie had been his safe space, the one person who asked for Steve’s opinion. Who asked how he was doing. Who didn’t look at him like they were waiting for him to put his foot in his mouth the second he walked into the room, pity in their eyes for poor, stupid Steve who was bound to say something that would make everyone’s eyes roll.
His steadfast and unconditional kindness was something Steve didn’t know what to do with, but that he craved like air.
But Eddie hadn’t been back either. No call, no knock at the door, no pigeon on his windowsill.
He opened the door without a sound. Put the groceries in the cupboards silently. Let the TV do the talking after dinner. What was the point? No one was there to listen. No one ever would be.
He went to bed to the sound of his own breathing.
The next day was the same. Wake up. Eat. Watch TV. Clean the same spot as the day before. Try not to feel too sorry for himself. Try to convince himself that he was just being dramatic. That he could open his mouth and garbage, bullshit wouldn’t come falling out.
The gentle sounds of the TV lull him to sleep before he knows it.
Knock, knock.
The two gentle raps at the door are so out of place in his still house that he jumps, landing hard on the floor with a groan. It takes him a moment to blink the sleep from his eyes, long enough that whoever is at the door knocks again, just a little louder.
He debates not answering it. What would be the point, really? Whoever is there will be sorely disappointed in the unspeaking boy who answered the door.
But he also can’t help but hope. It’s been a week and four days since someone reached out. Maybe today is the day. Maybe today someone will come and tell them they miss him. That they noticed he was missing and wanted to check on him.
His hand stalls just above the handle, and then he swings it open.
It’s Eddie, a little sweaty and twitchy, just the way Steve remembers him.
“Hi, Stevie.” He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. It’s Eddie. If he can talk to anybody, it’s Eddie. But he can’t. Eddie looks at him, clearly expecting some kind of response. He swallows, tries again, but nothing.
And there’s the pity. The look everyone is always giving him like he’s too dumb to read how sorry they are for him on their faces. He never wanted to see that look on Eddie.
“Sorry to just show up. I didn’t, I was going to wait, y’know. Give you the full two weeks, but I couldn’t wait anymore. I wanted to check on you.” He looks at him plaintively, shoulders hunched to make him smaller than the younger man in front of him. “But you don’t got to say anything. You mind if I come in, though?” And that, Steve can do.
He opens the door fully, letting the older man in.
Eddie barely takes a step in, and he already feels so much better for it. The stale air of this house that isn’t really his feels lighter, shared between two people. He’s glad Eddie doesn’t hesitate to make himself at home, it means at least some things haven’t changed between them.
He watches Eddie lower himself onto his favorite couch cushion, cane leaning against the armrest like always. The other man pats the seat next to him with the air of a father trying to have a heart to heart with their emotionally distant teenager, which makes him huff a laugh. He wouldn’t have thought anything of it if not for the way Eddie lights up at the sound.
The quiet settles on them uncomfortably.
“Hey, uh, feel free to tell me to fuck off. Or call me a freak, or whatever, but could I,” Eddie’s fidgeting, fingers switching in his lap. “Could I hold your hand?”
It’s so far from anything that he could have imagined Eddie saying in this moment that he jolts, which makes Eddie jolt, which makes this whole awkward situation ten times more awkward. Eddie giggles, high pitched and forced, and starts talking.
“No, nevermind. That was stupid, just uh, pretend I didn’t say that-” Steve doesn’t even realize he's reached out and snatched one of those ringed hands on his own until Eddie stops cold, their clumsy intertwined hands hanging in the air. “Right, okay,” Eddie breathes. “This is nice.”
And then Steve is laughing again. It’s just so easy with Eddie. He has him in stitches before the joke ends. Has him talking before he remembers that he should be biting his tongue. He likes him so much, probably even loves him, he just wishes he wasn’t such a burn out loser whose friends don’t even like him. Then maybe, someday, he could actually tell him.
But he is, and he can’t. He’s just lucky enough that Eddie still seems to care.
“Well, as much as holding the fair skin of the lovely maiden Harrington, I actually came here for a reason. I come bearing gifts, of a sort.” He pulls a stack of papers out of his jacket's inner pocket, so thick it's pushing the limits of the old rubber band around it.
“They’re letters. From the party. Apologies.” He holds them out, but Steve doesn’t take them. He shakes his head. This isn’t what he wanted. More pity. Forced apologies.
He tries to pull his hand away, to retreat. He just knows that Eddie had a hand in this, why else would he be the one delivering the letters? The anger that bubbles in his throat burns. He needs to get away. Now.
But Eddie holds fast, pulling him back in when he tries to run. “Hey, hey. Slow down. I know what you’re thinking but I promise that’s not it.” Steve sits, glaring at the man next to him. He doesn’t look half as chagrined as Steve thinks he should be. “Okay, maybe I did, But!” Steve’s up again, successfully extracting himself to pace in front of the TV.
“But! I didn’t ask them to write the letters! I didn’t! I just…gave them some food for thought. And then Nancy came up with this idea. A letter writing party, or three. They wanted to deliver them themselves, say something to you face to face, but I told them to wait. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”
It doesn’t make him feel better. In fact, it makes him feel worse. If he has anything to offer to the party, it’s his ability to take the hit, any hit, without showing just how bad it hurts. He can’t be this pitiful thing for them to take care of. Won’t survive Eddie treating him like some “get the jock integrated into the nerd group” pet project.
Eddie huffs, throwing his hands up in the air. “Look, would you just read them before you get all defensive and broody? Please?” And Steve’s not broody. He doesn’t brood. And he’s so sure that he doesn’t brood that he’ll prove it by reading those letters like a completely normal non-broody person.
He sits back down, snatching the stack out of his hands with a huff of his own. Eddie could have the decency not to look so smug about it.
He tears open the first envelope, but unfolding it is another thing altogether. He can tell it’s Dustin from the outline of blue ink he can see through the thin, lined notebook paper.
Hey Steve,
Letter writing is becoming more primitive with the digital age on the horizon, as I know I've told you before, but I guess it has its merits. Primarily in the slow organization of my thoughts into clear and concise action items.
Directive one: Acknowledge Guilt
I resent any implication that I have anything approaching an attitude. Mom says I’m a delight, and you know better than to argue with mom. But I also know better than to argue with Max and she says I’m a “butt head” so maybe both things can be true.
The point being, that I am at a developmental stage in which it is natural for me to be feeling self centered, stressed, and lacking forethought. However, I can admit that I haven’t been the best best friend as of late, or the best brother.
He shuffled the papers, moving on to the next one before he could finish Dustin’s.
Heya Steve-O,
This is Robin, you know, your best friend? I know this is supposed to be a letter writing party and I think everyone kind of hoped that having to write would force my brain to slow down but all it’s really doing is making my handwriting worse and you know it’s already not so great.
Anyway, the point is, I’m sorry I haven't been around as much as I should have been. You’re my male sister and it’s my proud job to defend your honor and I haven’t been there to do that. I was going to come over right away but everyone said I should wait and I still don’t have a car and–
The next.
Steve.
I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say here, but Nancy said she was going to read this before she let me submit it and if I didn’t do it ‘right’ then she would tell mom about the snacks under my bed.
The point is, we don’t get along. I don’t like you, you know that, but you’re still a member of this party, and the party needs to stick together. You dated my sister, you were kind of a douche, and I don’t think we’ll ever be best buds. But you also saved us, like, a lot. And you kept coming back to help us even when you and Nancy weren’t together, and Nancy says she’s over you and you’re over her.
Point is, you’re alright.
So many letters, one from everyone.
You’re coming to girls night next time. No arguing.
Max
Hope you feel better dude,
Lucas S
You still owe me. Ice cream. For. Life.
Scoops Troop Forever.
You still matter to me. So much. I’m sorry I’m not always the best at showing it.
Nancy Wheeler.
Letter from everyone in his life. Their entire little gang, even the people Steve wouldn’t have blamed in the slightest, Jonathan, Will, a very disjointed one written by a very high Argyle.
He reads them all, some more than once, the confusion growing alongside the joy. He pinches his nose, refusing to cry. It’s just nice, is all. Really nice. Nicer than he thinks he probably deserves for something ultimately so small.
The shame of being so dramatic still burns, but it can’t overshadow the relief he feels that he’s not being discarded.
Eddie is looking at him with the softest, fondest eyes. It makes his breath hitch.
“They’re really nice,” he says for a lack of anything better. He clears his throat, trying to get rid of the roughness there.
“You deserve nice,” Eddie says, closing the distance between them. He rubs his arms, gently, ringed fingers catching lightly on the hairs there. Steve had missed it, the easy way Eddie reached out for him. He hadn’t even fully realised how much it happened until it stopped cold turkey. “I’m sorry people haven’t been treating you as nicely as you deserve.”
Steve knows it’s a bad idea, that he’ll crave the closeness when Eddie leaves, but he lets himself be coaxed into a firm hug. “It wasn’t even that big of a deal. I know I’m not exactly a riveting conversation partner. It just sucks to constantly be reminded that you’re the dumbest guy in the room.” He mumbles it into Eddie’s shoulder, grumbling more when Eddie pulls back a little, looking at him with those intense, fathomless eyes.
“You listen to me, Steve Harrington.” He says, voice low and serious the same way it was when they were in the Upside Down. “You are brilliant. I love talking to you, maybe more than anyone else in this stupid, wacky world. No one makes me laugh like you do. No one makes me rethink my biases like you, or think about how I treat others, or introduces me to putting Poptarts in the toaster.
Steve laughs, hiding a sniffle. “It’s literally how they’re supposed to be eaten, Eddie. It’s, like, on the box. In the name, even.” He says, making Eddie laugh right along with him.
“You think I’m reading the box? Who does that? Not me!” And then they’re both laughing, holding each other by the elbows in the middle of the Harrington's living room.
“The point is, Steve, that you make me better. You make me smarter, and if any of those gremlins and little shits and little smarty pants actually took the time to see past their inflated ego, they would be too.” Eddie’s smile is so confident, like what he’s saying is the absolute truth. Steve wishes he wouldn’t look at him like that. It makes it so hard not to kiss him.
“Well, I guess if Eddie Munson says it’s true, it must be.” He’s still not convinced, to all the way, but it’s enough to have these letters in his hand. To hear Eddie say it so plainly. That he’s not an idiot, that he’s happy to listen.
Eddie knocks a knuckle into his chin gently. “Now there’s a good boy,” he says.
It’s supposed to be a joke, of course it is, but Jesus Christ, Steve didn’t know his heart rate could spike so suddenly. It’s almost certainly not good for his health. At least he’s in good company. Steve is surprised he’s still standing with the amount of blood pooling in the other man’s face.
“Sorry, that was. Uh, I mean, nice weather we’re having,” Eddie stammers, fingers twitching at Steve’s elbows and then pulling away, and Steve is moving before he even realizes what he’s doing.
Maybe Eddie is right. Maybe Steve isn’t as stupid and dense as people make him feel, because even he can see that none of this is normal. No one acts like this with their straight guy friends, and if there’s even the smallest chance that Eddie feels the same way as him, Steve isn’t going to hesitate. Words might not be his forte, but he’s always been the first to act.
Their first kiss is clumsy, more of a mashing of lips than anything, but judging by the way Eddie pulls him in close, he doesn’t seem to mind.
They pull apart, both breathing heavily like they just ran a marathon rather than sharing a middle school quality kiss in the middle of the day. “Holy shit!” Eddie says, and if he didn’t look so excited, those perfect dimples on full display, he might have been worried, but all he can feel is joy bubbling up in his throat.
“Yeah, holy shit. Was that, uh, okay?” He hammed it up, just a little, tilting his head so he can look up at Eddie through his eyelashes. No one who regretted a kiss would be looking at him like that.
“Okay? Okay, he asks! That was the best kiss of my life. Can we do it again?” God, he’s so adorable. Steve can’t believe he gets to kiss him.
Instead of answering, he just reels him in, running his hand through his perfect, frizzy curls.
There’s still so much for all of them to work through. Steve will need to talk to everyone at some point. He’ll need more time than he’d like before he really starts talking again, and he may never fully feel like he belongs.
But judging by the way Eddie is holding him, kissing him, he’s pretty sure he won’t have to do it alone.
"So," Eddie said, resting his chin in his cupped hands and smiling winsomely up at Steve, "what's my motivation here?"
Steve ran a hand through his hair, honestly stumped. This wasn't going anywhere close to how he'd thought it would, and the entire flaw in the plan was the guy right in front of him. He - the fact of it was, Steve hadn't been expecting anyone even close to so hot, and it was really screwing with his ability to form complete sentences, let alone think around corners.
"Your Craigslist ad said - "
"Yeah, the ad," Eddie waved that away. "There's only so much information your response gave me, big boy. Sure, you want Thanksgiving ruined, but what's my backstory?"
"I don't -"
Eddie vaulted to his feet, way too much energy for the peaceful clearing they'd met up in, almost tipping himself backwards over the picnic bench... and then doing it, sprawling out over the table like a swooning maiden, the back of his hand pressed to his forehead.
"Am I a pining ex serenading you under your bedroom window?" He sat up, an abrupt movement that left him hunched and glaring. "A bitter rival accusing you of stealing my man?"
Steve took a couple of steps backwards as Eddie flung himself off the picnic table and darted in close, looking up at him under his lashes with an air of tragedy.
"Are you cheating on me, baby?"
"I wouldn't," Steve said, and quite without intending to he reached up and cupped Eddie's cheek, brushing the crest of it with his thumb before feeling bright colour wash across his own, up to the bright tips of his ears.
"Oh," Eddie breathed, his eyes flicking between Steve's, "you're just a sweetheart, aren't you?" His long fingers cupped Steve's elbows, then slid down to encircle his wrists, the brush of his warm skin like tingling static against Steve's.
"I just want my parents to believe me," Steve said, his blush renewing at the plaintive note in his voice, the idiot simplicity of what he couldn't do for himself.
"Oh, baby," Eddie said, his voice settling warm like syrup in Steve's gut, "I will be the most convincing boyfriend you could ever wish for." He grinned, wide and a little manic, and Steve couldn't help how the echo took up residence on his face.
"And what's more convincing," Eddie said thoughtfully, carefully weaving their fingers together and pulling Steve a little closer, "than days - nay, weeks! - of dating?"
"Weeks?" Steve asked, laughter warm in his voice.
"Months?" Eddie asked, and then - slow, and sweet, and with all the time in the world where Steve chose not to pull away - gently brushed their lips together.
"I'm in trouble with you, huh?" Steve asked, and got another of those sweet, manic grins.
"You wouldn't believe how convincing marriage can be," Eddie said.
The concept of the Hawkins gang forever being a little unsettling to outsider’s eyes.
There’s the obvious, of course, the fact that they are dangerous people who handle tense situations with off putting ease.
One parent gets a little violent mid baseball game and Steve is there, steady, voice firm, shielding the teen referee with his own body and there’s something about it that makes the man back off. Only after the fact does he seem to realize that he’d grabbed a bat, casually, as if ready to swing it if necessary.
They send little naive intern Nancy Wheeler to cover a student protest and actual war reporters think she’s one of their own within seconds of seeing her on the field. There’s something haunted in her eyes and a firmness in her stand, the way she eyes the riot police’s weapons carefully… like she’s ready to take them.
Robin seems like all rainbow and sunshine’s upon first meeting her but the first time her new friends take her to the club the can’t help but notice how her demeanor changes under the flickering lights, how her eyes dart to the exits and her body tenses as if expecting a fight. They assume there just aren’t any gay clubs in Hawkins, that maybe she’s still on edge.
It’s the teacher that notice something off with Jonathan, because he mostly keeps to himself. But there’s something in his scripts, in the images he pitches, in how he portrays horror and violence and pain that makes them worry. It’s the way he doesn’t flinch away from it, actually, that he forces you to look. It’s not even cruelty but normalization. But then he’s the nicest to other quiet or shy students, and makes a point to ensure everyone is accounted for after a night out with his few friends. They don’t know what to make of it.
The kids aren’t exempt of this either.
Mike’s is almost a given, as a writer, the horrors he builds in his world attract thousands of readers, but his mentors squirm and wonder where sharpness of his descriptions come from. People have commented on how he can describe the exact smell of fear and spilled blood.
Lucas’s is more quiet, the steadiness of a foot soldier. He’s all smiles and warmth with his new group of friends until he sees someone being pushed around from the corner of his eyes and he’s stepping in, a firm hand on a shoulder, a steady shove against a wall, a whispered warning that doesn’t require repeating. There are no empty threats there.
There’s something more eery about Will and his new friends definitely notice the way he seems to know where everyone is at all times, how you just cannot sneak up on him, how his eyes go distant sometimes like he’s searching for something he can’t quite reach anymore.
It’s Dustin who catches people off guard more often, because his outgoing and easy demeanor stands out the most amongst his nerdier colleagues, but he’s warm and sunny and makes a point to make everyone feel welcome up until the moment a line is crossed. That line is simple and it’s kindness and the moment it’s lost there’s a fire in the kid that turns him into the protector of the shy ones around him. It takes watching him throw a single punch to know it isn’t his first brawl.
Max on the other hand has always been ‘a handful’ according to every adult in her life and if they thought a year and a half in a coma would smooth down her edges they were dead wrong. If nothing else, she seems more reckless, more forward, particularly in the skating world she gains the reputation of being a little too fearless, like she forgets sometimes that she can get hurt, that she’s not immortalized in someone’s dream.
No one would dare mess with the girl from the cabin at the edge of town. She’s quiet and reserved and sweet… she still manages to make friends at the local tavern and becomes an excellent teacher particularly for kids who are struggling with language and learning, but there’s a sharpness in her eyes, like she can peek into your soul, that makes grown men weary and older women whisper about shadow dreams and dark paths.
And then, and then, things happen when you put them together in a room.
Most people wouldn’t be able to put into words what it is about them that sets their primal instincts off, like they are suddenly in the presence of predators. Hunters. Something in the way they eye the exits, how they stands shoulder to shoulder, how all their heads snap as one towards any surprising noise in the dark, how they seem to communicate with a look, how they fall in line like a platoon. A pack.
If they weren’t so young, some might think they are veterans, old war buddies.
But they are so young, from a small sheltered town in Indiana. What war could they have fought?
I adore fics of where steve and Dustin figure out that they see eachother as brothers but what’s wayyy funnier is that every outsider who meets them just thinks it’s true immidiately
Like they look really similar (my source is the vol 2 posters seriously go check they look like they’re related ong) plus the way they spend approximately half of any conversation insulting eachother just makes anyone think that of course they’re siblings, it’s what all of Dustin’s college friends and Steve’s colleagues assume.
Then one day when they’re visiting the other someone makes a comment like ‘it’s really sweet that you get on that well with your brother!’ And they both just freeze before realising ohhhh that makes a lot more sense than our batshit insane story of how we met so yeah fuck it brothers.
(After about a year of this it seems like Claudia has forgotten that Steve isn’t actually her son she just yells stuff like ‘dusty can you go grab your brother for me dinners ready’ or ‘ Steve dear can you pick up your brother from college this weekend?’ They never correct her, they just really like being considered each others family.)
Having a queer character believe he won't find love and proving him right is not good writing.
Having a character grow up in solitary confinement and then ripping her away from the only family she's ever known to live a life of solitude once again is not good writing.
Having a character be in love with his best friend and then just compare it to a high school crush is not good writing.
Having Eleven say that Mike has always been the person who truly understood her after showing us in the previous seasons that he only sees her as a superhero IS NOT GOOD WRITING.
Having two girls be abused by a man with power for the majority of their lives only to leave them dead and alone as a direct consequence of the trauma they suffered IS VILE WRITING
Modern Steddie where the Corroded Coffin boys are protective as fuck and pretend to be Eddie's boyfriends whenever they notice some creep making unsolicited advances during their gigs.
This has always been a thing, but they get even more protective after a guy corners Eddie in the bar bathroom and gets way too handsy with their vocalist.
One night, they are playing their usual Friday gig when Eddie catches sight of a pretty guy giving him this awed, hungry gaze. His interest is picked instantly.
They play for an hour more, Eddie makes sure to use all his seductive moves when he's singing and playing. The guy doesn't take his eyes off him for a second.
When the show is over, they pack their things quickly, load everything in the van, then come back for a couple of drinks.
Eddie makes a beeline to the bar and, unsurprisingly, pretty boy is by his side in a second.
And so is Gareth.
The man doesn't even have a chance to say a single word before Gareth is draping his arm over Eddie's shoulder and saying, "Sorry, pretty boy, this one here is taken."
It breaks Eddie's heart how sad the man actually looks. He just mumbles a small, "I'm sorry, my mistake." Before he sidesteps the two of them and leaves, like a kicked puppy.
Eddie panics. He shoves Gareth's arm off him and sprints after the man, a confused exclamation leaving his friend but Eddie ignores him.
He catches up with the guy just as he's reaching the restroom.
"Hey, hey, wait!" The man turns, pretty hazel eyes large with shock as he takes Eddie in. "Please, ignore what just happened, my friend was just being protective."
"Your friend? He's not your boyfriend then?"
"Oh god, no. Gareth is as straight as they come, no way. But he does that when he thinks some creep is trying to hit on me."
"Creep?"
"Not you! You're not a creep! Gareth is just an idiot! Oh my god, I'm sorry."
The man laughs; this pretty little thing that's a mix of a snort and a giggle and Eddie can't help but stare at those pink lips.
"Can we please start over?" he asks with a sigh. "I'm Eddie."
"Pleasure to meet you, Eddie. I'm Steve." They clasp hands and Eddie swears he can feel too the shiver that runs down the man's body. "Can I buy you a drink? Or are your friends gonna try to hunt me down if I do?"
"You can buy me anything you want, baby. Be my guest."
The smile he gets is blinding and beautiful and Eddie almost melts right there and then.
Can you imagine…how hot Eddie would have thought Steve was with his baseball bat full of nails, just fearlessly swinging on demodogs? Like some punk-rock paladin from one of his campaigns.
They could NOT have introduced Eddie in season 2 or they’d be married by season 5.
“So, the lab created the wall,” Jonathan nodded, pointing to whatever it was on Dustin’s stupid map, like it was all a fact they were just accepting instead of speculation. Because obviously when Dustin said something, it must be true, despite him being absolutely AWOL and a total asshole for over a year, now. Just because he thought it was a circle, didn’t mean there wouldn’t be a gap or a break or a fucking door. It could just be half a circle for all they know! Did Dustin’s stupid algebra tell him that part, too?
Steve rolled his eyes as Dustin shrugged.
“No idea. But I think we should find out. Don’t you?” Dustin seemed brighter than Steve had seen him all year, brighter than he’d been since before Eddie’s…. —Whatever, he cut that thought off with another huff and roll of his eyes that went ignored.
It was nice seeing a side of Dustin that seemed lost, Steve just wished he could have seen it when he tried to reach out, when he’d been checking in with Claudia, when he tried to drive Dustin to school in the mornings. Not now. Not when the thing making him light up again was all this shit.
They all shared looks, Jonathan’s eyes skating between Dustin and Nancy like Steve wasn’t even there. Like Steve was just a ghost, invisible to the rest of the world. It prickled at the back of his neck, that general hum of irritation that had been following him for days — hell, for months — bubbling up to the surface.
He’d been trying not to let it get to him; he understood the paranoia of trying to cling onto Nancy Wheeler’s affections. It was a bit ironic, though, considering the fact that she’d cheated on him, with Jonathan. He didn’t even want Nancy back, but the way the other man was constantly looking at him with suspicion and annoyance made his heckles rise.
El’s voice crackled through the walkie speaker, tearing through the awkward silence that had descended upon the dilapidated chapel. It was muffled by Dustin’s backpack, sitting next to Steve on the pew bench.
“Something happened on the other side.”
Nancy marched over, taking the walkie out of Dustin’s bag and wandering closer to the vine-clad altar for space, “What do you mean ‘something happened’?”
“It’s Will.”
“Will?” Jonathan startled, rushing to Nancy’s side like being closer to the walkie would make Will safe again.
“What about Will?”
“I could see through his eyes. On the Upside. Like the hivemind.”
The three of them bickered over the walkie cutting in with questions El didn’t have the answers to, speculating even more about the circle wall, and for all the world (both worlds) acting like Steve didn’t exist. He watched from the pew, keeping his mouth shut because he knew, he knew, that if he opened his mouth, Jonathan or Dustin or fuck— maybe even Hopper would just tell him he was being stupid.
He knew his mouth was on a tight leash though — could feel it simmering under his skin — and he was closer every second to just saying fuck it and burning all of his bridges. It felt like that would make everything worse, somehow. It felt like that would just prove them right, that Steve was too stupid to keep it together, too emotional to be supportive, too much of a loser to be any help. It would prove that he hadn’t changed.
Despite the fact that it was him that got them into the Upside Down while everyone was screaming at him.
He rolled his eyes again and leaned back as the walkie conversation pattered to a close. Will was safe, and he’d protected everyone on the Right Side Up as far as El knew. And somehow, miraculously, they’d found El’s ‘sister’ in the military base.
“We’re going to meet you at the cemetery, don’t move,” Hopper cut in sternly.
Steve couldn’t help scoffing to himself. Of course they made it into the Upside Down only to sit still and do nothing.
“What is it now, Steve?” Dustin sighed as the walkie cut out. “Are we not giving you enough attention? Is that it?”
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” he snapped back.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Steve shook his head. He shouldn't keep talking. He should swallow his tongue like he’d been doing all this time. He should keep it together and just take a fucking walk or something — distance himself until he could trust that he wouldn’t say something stupid.
But he scoffed again instead, rolling his eyes at Dustin the same way the kid had been doing every day since last April, stooping to his level like they were playing fucking limbo.
“It means you’ve been spending all year trying to act out for attention, and then shoving everyone else away when they give it to you. But I’m the one who’s desperate for it? Sure,” Steve rolled his eyes, standing from the pew and wandering down the aisle just so he wouldn’t have to see any of them. He needed to calm down; he needed to get it together. He just needed to take a few breaths, get some air — no matter how spore-filled and dank it was.
“Let us know when you’re done with your tantrum,” Jonathan’s voice called out, blasé and condescending, just like everything out of his mouth since the Byers came back from California and he’d decided Steve was enemy number one.
The last sense of rationality flowing through his bloodstream dried right up, feet frozen halfway up the aisle. It was like an out-of-body experience as he turned sharply on his heel and zeroed in on the lanky stoner, as if the past four years had never happened and Steve was standing in a dirty alleyway again, anger so heavy it weighed down his bones and pressed tightly on his chest.
“You really want to talk about tantrums, Byers? How about that tantrum you threw because you thought me being too nice was selfish? You think you have any right to talk about being selfish when you’ve clearly been lying to Nance for years, because you’re too insecure to say no?”
Nancy’s eyes snapped to Jonathan as she pursed her lips, “What does that mean?”
Steve ignored her, the fire in his veins spurring him forward, too much momentum to stop now, “You’re so focused on me, like I’m only here because of Nancy, but news flash, Byers— I’ve done all the same shit for the kids. I’ve shoved myself in front of them any chance I got, with the demogorgons, and the dogs, and Billy, and the Russians, every single time. You just weren’t there to see any of it.
“You know why I can’t remember a, a flashlight, or a Shakespear quote, or, or whatever else you think makes me an idiot, huh? I’ve had five concussions. Five. And sure, a couple of them were from sports, but the others? It’s from all this shit,” he gestured all around them, at the rotting wood and creeping vines that squirmed every so often, red lightning flashing outside as Steve went on, “Do you know what that does to a person? I wasn’t even allowed back on the basketball team after the third one.”
“What a tragedy that must have been,” Dustin muttered, kicking his sneaker through the dust and grime settled on the floorboards.
“The doctors said I could lose my hearing with the next one, Dustin. Or my speech, or my eyesight, do you get that? I don’t know what else to do for you people to stop treating me like some random idiot you stumbled across three minutes ago.
“Fuck. Eddie failed high school twice and you never once treated him like an idiot—”
“Don’t talk about him.” Dustin cut him off sharply. He’d started softening up just a little through Steve’s rant, fidgeting more and looking at the ground instead of meeting Steve’s eye, but the slight mention of Eddie had him stiff and angry once more. He stared Steve down like he was ready to fight him, and that panged in his chest like a knife.
“You’re not the only one who lost him, Dustin, I— we all did,” Steve pleaded. He hated the hardened look in the boy’s eye, the fury and the indignation. Two years ago, Steve didn’t even know Dustin could make that face, and here it was directed toward him. And it was one thing to push people away, it was one thing to close himself off, but he was morphing into some vengeance fueled version of Eddie that Steve knew the man would have hated.
He didn’t know Eddie that well… well, he did, kind of. He knew what the man sounded like when he laughed, knew how low his voice dipped when he was high, knew bits and pieces about his dad and Wayne and his mother, whispered into the night like the dissipating smoke between them.
Knew what he tasted like after a few shots of vodka.
Knew the feeling of his skin under Steve’s fingertips.
It was only a couple times. After a party or two, under the influence, nothing major. Maybe they could have been more; maybe they could have been something after…
But now he’d never know. Now there was just a gaping hole where potential used to be.
Now there was just a little shithead stomping around trying to play Invasion of the Body Snatchers like it didn’t tear Steve up inside every time he saw him. Like Dustin didn’t even exist before Eddie, like that kid was dead, too.
“You die, I die, kid. Remember that? I don’t want to spend all this time being pushed away, when none of us know if we’ll make it back this time. It’s not… it’s not good to pretend we’re not close, or like we don’t care, or, or to be fighting all the time.
“What if one of us doesn’t make it out? What if it all just ends and we don’t get to say things we want to say, or do things we want to do?”
Brown eyes twinkling by the pool lights, a slurred ‘Harrington’ on his lips, dimples gouged out of his cheeks like the torn flesh of his neck—
“It just,” he croaks, blinking back the sudden sting in his eyes and the tightness of his throat as if the bat’s tail was still wrapped around him, still squeezing, still dragging further into the Upside Down. “I just don’t want to do that again.”
Not again.
He glanced up at the silent trio, hoping they didn’t ask him what he meant. His throat was too tight, too stuffed up with things he never got to say, and maybe he’d die with them stuck in his windpipe.
But Dustin wasn’t gearing up for more questions or comebacks, and surprisingly neither was Jonathan. He was looking at the ground again, scuffing his shoes, avoiding Steve’s eyes. They both were.
“Jon, I’m… I’m not trying to get Nancy back, or whatever you think, man. I just want to help. I just want… want to be useful, and I’m not smart like you guys, I know that. I don’t get the algebra or the science things, or the nerd references, but I’m strong. I’m fast. Those are things I can do, I’m not trying to be macho or show off, alright? I just…” he deflated. He felt kind of like a balloon that had been pumped full of air, only for a tiny hole to drain it all — squealing and whining until he was just a heap of rubber on the floor.
Shaking his head in the sudden quiet, Steve stepped back toward the chapel doors. “I just need a minute. Sorry,” he mumbled, turning his back on the trio once again, and heading for the empty space Eddie’s headstone should be on the Right Side Up.
Written as a pair with this fic in the same universe
I've seen a couple, Steve is an Addams fics and was inspired!
This is so canon divergent but the idea wouldn't leave me and honestly it brings me so much joy. I mix basically all Addams Family media i have consumed, including the musical, Wednesday(ish. I find it interesting but not enough to truly keep up with it), the old TV show, the 1990 movies, and the cartoons.
Essentially, Steve's dad (look i know they gave him a name now and it's Danny but I veto) Richard had a brief fling with a woman named Lilith Addams. It was really a one night thing because the woman terrified him. Then one night he got a call that Lilith had died and she had had a son...his son. Little Stefano Crowley Ignacio Addams-Harrington. He wanted to deny it but then he saw his son for the first time (already two years old but just barely) and well....the hair didn't lie. By this point he and Cheryl Moore had been married for two years and 7 months (they were an arranged marriage and married a month after Richard's night with Lilith) and no child had come along yet which was putting a strain on their marriage and relationship with their family which was why they hadn't spoken to them in the past two years.
This was the solution! They would say Stefano-Steve, was his and Cheryl's son!
He failed to realize how hard taking his own child would be from Lilith's family. And how...bizarre they were. In the end they allowed (allowed!? Ha!) him to take his boy but there were conditions. He had to visit at least once a year, he had to take part in every family Sabre Mazurka and also have his own, a family Sabre Mazurka did not count as the once a year, keep the name his mother gave him and he had to keep in touch with the family. Truly they were an odd family, those Addams. But Richard also found it was for the best considering his son was also...odd. At first he tried to refuse their demands but then he found Stef-Steven cuddling a hatchet like a teddy bear.....Or the time he saw little Steve take the biggest chug of antifreeze and then proceed to finish it off with no side effects or...you know...death....
So yeah...Richard stuck to the demands. Except he bargained that Steve had to be called something different in public/away from the Addams. Thus in Hawkins he was known simply as Steven Adam Harrington.
I really love the 1991 & 1993 cast of Addams Family so this will be them just set in ST timeline. Instead of Deb trying to marry Fester, Steve had been there that summer and convicned her the family could help her and would accept her and thus Deb was just adopted into the family. Steve admired how she embraced being an Addams but still lived colorfully. He really looked up to her and she considered Steve the son she would never have.
He and Wednesday are the same age.
They do still go to Camp Chippewa but instead of being forced to go by Deb, the cousins go because Stefano found the idea of it intriguing, Wednesday went to protect Stefano (they are the same age but she's a couple months older and takes the role of elder very seriously), and Pugsley went to see how much chaos he could create. It's after Chippewa that his dad starts to crack down harder on his oddness and essentially plays to Steve's love of dares and contracts to make his son act "normal" until his 18th birthday. Steve thinks it's interesting and their was a couple of prizes if he could do it. (The Harrington family house that was located more in the richer part of town's woods, a wealthy inheritance, and his Grandpa Otis's weapons collection.)
The contract is why he holds back in a fight against someone he really doesn't want to fight or someone he doesn't think deserves him at his top shape whether out of genuine concern or their skills just suck in his opinion. It's not like his personality is a lie either, as he really does enjoy sports and being active and he gets passing grades to keep on said sports but he does also not care as much for school unless a lesson manages to catch his attention and keep it which is kind of hard considering it's not Grandmama's potion classes, Cousin Itt's self care and beauty tricks, Uncle Gomez's sword lessons, Auntie Morticia's gardening tips, Mama Deb's acting assignments or Lurch's piano lessons.
He just has more interest in the darker and more macabre things much like any other Addams that he hides. He can be more himself at home alone as the contract only included acting normal when out in public or when guests were over.
Then everything with the Upside-down started and Steve had to act like he wasn't endlessly thrilled and intrigued with the monsters he got to fight. Also Barb disappearing and ending up dead really doesn't affect him much as he didn't really know her well and as an Addams, they don't fear death, they see it as another great adventure. I mean of course they would mourn family and those they love because they knew them and loved them, but if it's someone they don't know or personally care for they are pretty nonchalant about it. Steve has to try really hard to act like he cares which sounds so mean and awful but it's just how he is.
He has to push down the almost manic delight he feels getting to fight the interdimensional creatures but that delight is weighed down by his worry for Nancy as he did really love her and didn't want anything to happen to her. But! He got a nice nail bat that he named Macy as it reminded him fondly of the many different maces that were kept in the Addams Family weapons vault.
The first person to catch on to Steve's oddness was actually Robin. She did start the You Rule/You Suck Board but she began to notice that sometimes Steve's flirting looked almost performative. Dustin caught on when he brought up to Russian code and Steve got twitchy but also this almost hyper gleam to his eye despite sounding frustrated and reluctant. (Stefano knows Russian but 'Steve' wouldn't so he had to pretend)
In any of my AUs Steve is a December baby so he technically graduated "early". He normally wouldn't have been allowed into the year he was because of his birthday cutoff but his dad bribed the elementary principal to allow him in a year earlier than he was supposed to.
This meaning Steve won't be 18 until basically season 4. Of course this being the season Eddie comes in more and Steve gets to be himself! He won the bet! And he also forgets to tell everyone about the bet/contract now that it is done. But it comes up because Steve gets a visit from the Addams Family because Wednesday had a vision of Chrissy dying and how it would lead to basically the end of the world and as much as the Addams love some good chaos, destruction, murder, and overall gloom, the end of the world would mean the end of the family and that was something they couldn't stand.
Now everyone finds out and are baffled and some feel betrayed but Robin's just like, "you still my b*tch. A weird b*tch. But my b*tch" Dustin and Max are much the same while Eddie is smitten. He already had a crush on Steve Harrington for longer than was healthy but now he was downright down bad for Stefano Addams. The boy who gushed about all his weapons and who still loved sports but also the boy who's hair looked softer and got subtle blond highlights and ditched the polos for comfy sweaters or more expressive outfits. A boy who got shy but beamed when his "Mama Deb" praised him and who also barked at Jason and his goons when they got mad that Chrissy was hanging out with the "freaks" and losers.
Again, another overall crack idea but one close to my heart. And of course with the Addams there to help, Vecna is so cooked. Also Suzie is an Addams because I make the rules and I think it would be hilarious when they all find out. Steve and Suzie are just like "Cousin Stef/Suzie!?" And Dustin is having a crisis in the corner like "Cousin!?"
Ships include:
Of course, Steddie!!!!
Wednesday x Chrissy just because I think it would be endlessly funny yet endearing for Wednesday to fall for the preppy athlete. (Kind of like a combo of Enid (from Wednesday) and Lucas (from The Addams Family Musical) which turns into Wednesday x Chrissy x Robin maybe as I'm still playing around with the idea.
Robin x Vickie maybe
Nancy x Jonathan
Lucas x Max
Dustin x Suzie
Will x and maybe an Addams Family OC
Mike x Jane (El) will it last??? Idk
Etc.
Addams Family Powers:
Grandmama has excellent potion making and crafting abilities as well as witchcraft and divination
Fester has enhanced durability and manipulation over electricity and can manifest electricity
Gomes has enhanced durability (all Addams' do but his is the strongest) and slight pyrokinesis
Morticia has divination, death sense, spiritualism and witchcraft
Lurch is undead so he has enhanced durability and in my mind is immortal
Wednesday has precognition (visions) and psychometry
Pugsley has enhanced durability that is very strong but not as strong as his father's and can manipulate/manifest electricity like his Uncle Fester
Pubert has witchcraft and pyrokinesis
Stefano has spiritualism, dream manipulation, and enhanced durability
i can’t draw for the life of me. but if any artist is reading this, i am begging you to draw bat steve harrington flying aimlessly around. there’s a window that’s SO clean, it’s basically clear and Steve smacks his whole bat body against it and falls 😭 i cant stop laughing PLEASE. 💀
I can't draw animals XD but I gave him wings that looked more like the demobats I also gave him long tail like demobats but because he is Steve "The Hair" Harrington, it has a little fluff of fur on it.
But anyways here's a sketchy sketch that is a little cleaned up and colored because I can never just be happy with sketches
Steve has active nightmares, like I mean he will be moving, he will be screaming, but the one that happens most these days is he doesn't breath when he dreams of the demobats attacking him, or the vines.
When it gets to the part of the dream where they are choking him his body just.....doesn't breathe, it fights for breath like he is actually being choked and he has woken up way to many times coughing and trying to get catch his breath but ends up always hyperventilating till he can recognize he's not dreaming anymore. This boy is crying, drooling, sounding like he was actually being choked to death and most times he scratches at his neck.
Of course he doesn't tell The Party, they're just nightmares. The kids deal with enough and Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie are graduating and making plans and he doesn't want to be a burden.
This bit is inspired by @nightshiftz where Steve makes sure he doesn't fall asleep anywhere but at home.
If The Party spends the night, he makes himself stay awake all night just in case. He's been having nightmares frequently, almost every night, he hides the signs as best he can. Makeup under his eyes and some of his mother's expensive eye bag treatment cream that she forgot she had and never takes with her anymore. If it's a scratches night he makes sure to but bandages on and put on a turtleneck. If it's hot out he still wears a turtleneck, just one he cut the sleeves off of. He makes the excuse that his scar was itching that day and the turtleneck helps him not itch at it as much.
Everyone believes him except Robin and Eddie but both don't know how to go about bringing it up or exactly what they are bringing up. They just notice the turtleneck is odd and when he wears it Steve is stiff and not himself. Like he's doing everything he can to take attention off himself, but Steve is smooth, Steve is smart at reading people and how best to distract their attention.
Then Eddie notices that Steve never actually sleeps whenever The Party sleeps over or even when it's a smaller group like Eddie, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan. Or even just Robin, Eddie and Steve. Eddie notices because he woke up during one of these sleepovers, it was one with the whole Party, Steve had opened up his home for a small movie night and Eddie had had his own nightmare.
Eddie, contrary to popular belief is a quiet dreamer, even with nightmares. Sure his breathing may get heavier, but he's pretty quiet up until the point of waking where he chokes on a cut off scream or if he does scream it's the once. Noisy nightmares, or even just noisy dreams used to be one of the many things his dad disliked from him.
It was one of those nights that he woke before the scream could leave. He was grateful he didn't wake up anyone and decided he needed a glass of water. He tended to hold himself so tense when having a nightmare, even to the point where he tensed his throat so he always awoke parched. He does his best not to make too much noise as he gets his glass of water but that's when he noticed the light on outside in the backyard.
Eddie is innately curious so of course he had to go see what it was. He thought perhaps that Steve just forgot to turn it off but he racked his brain trying to remember if the boy even turned it on in the first place. Then he noticed the sliding glass door slid slightly open, and of course he had to peak outside, he even armed himself with a kitchen knife. That's when he saw Steve, Steve who looked, frankly, awful. He had dark bags under his eyes, his hair was a mess but no less charming (no less infuriating either that it still seemed to stay charming) and he looked pale from what Eddie could see in the moonlight and back porch light.
Eddie had wanted to go outside, see what was wrong, but something stopped him. So he just stood there and watched. Thoughts came and went, as did hopes that Steve just went out for some air and would be back in soon and Eddie could apologize for being a creep and watching him. It never happened.
30 minutes passed.
2 hours.
It was at the 5 hour mark of just watching Steve sit there on a pool chair where the sun was coming off that Eddie noticed that Steve had his nailbat at his side. Gripped in one hand, but down by his side like he was giving off the image of being defenseless, of being vulnerable and just waiting for whatever creeper at night to try him. To try and get inside.
It worried Eddie beyond belief, but when Steve finally stood up to come in Eddie had made his way as fast as he could back to his spot on the couch to pretend to be asleep. Again, he didn't know why he did this, just that he did. He could hear Steve walk into the living room, knew well that he was making sure everyone was okay, could feel his eyes on him for a good minute before he heard him go upstairs.
Eddie didn't know what to do. He couldn't bring it up, then he would have to explain why he just watched, why he pretended to be asleep. So he promises to see if this is a one off thing, if it is then Steve probably worked through whatever made him watch over them all that night, if not....if not then he didn't know but he would plan.
It was then he noticed that Steve never stayed the night anywhere whenever the group got together somewhere else. Even when it was offered he never did. Next sleepover at the Harrington Residence had Eddie staying awake, waiting until he heard the footsteps. Till he heard the back door slide open.
It wasn't a one off thing.
Eddie watched again. Pretended he was asleep again. Then it was like he couldn't help himself from noticing the makeup under the eyes, the exhausted way Steve held himself when he thought no one was looking, the way he stared at any surface that you could sleep on with such want that Eddie wanted to cry.
Then he made it his mission to get the boy to sleep. Maybe it was trickery that he invited Steve to his and Wayne's government funded trailer. Maybe it was trickery that he was confused that Robin canceled because she had some family thing she forgot (he never asked her but he would be sure to fill her in if his plan succeeded. And maybe it was trickery that he listened to old wives tales and did his best following recipes to make lettuce soup and this weird warm milk mixture of honey and chamomile.
It's absolute trickery when he tells Steve that Wayne was trying out new recipes and asked Eddie to tell him how he liked them and if Steve would help him out. After all two minds were better than one and they could give Wayne tips. Steve is so sleep deprived that he believed the half-baked excuse and well he hadn't eaten dinner....or lunch so why not.
Eddie could see the warm food doing it's job, so he stepped it up, he made sure the temperature was slightly cool since he read people sleep better if they are somewhat cool. And, "Hey Steve wanna hear the new song I've been working on? Just really quick and then we can pick a movie."
Of course Steve agreed, because Steve is kind and great. So Eddie played a soft melody, hummed until Steve just dropped asleep there on the couch. Eddie felt like he had won the biggest prize, he got a blanket out to cover Steve, helped set him in a comfortable position and popped in a movie. He would watch over Steve for how ever long it took for him to sleep.
He gets through the first movie, pops in a second and it's near the end of the second that he notices Steve tossing and turning on the small couch. Then he notices the breathing, but before he could actually begin to debate whether he should wake Steve up or not Steve tossed himself right off the couch.
Eddie thought that was it. Steve would wake up, but he didn't. Eddie watched horrified as he noticed Steve wasn't breathing. STEVE WASN'T BREATHING!?
He freaked out. Of course he did. It was when he got closer, dropped to his knees to wake Steve up that Steve reached to his neck and scratched. Eddie panicked and grabbed Steve's hands because Steve drew blood. He drew blood! Eddie was crying as he begged Steve to wake up and Steve did but he's still half asleep when he does so he goes through his routine of gasping, crying, hyperventilating but he hears Eddie, feels him.
Eddie was freaking out but he noticed Steve wasn't fully awake, was panicking and quickly pulled Steve's back to his chest. His legs bracketed on either side of the boy, his arms wrapped around him. He started directing Steve, telling him to match his breathing. He whispered sweet nothings. He did all he could.
When Steve finally was aware he realized he was still at Eddie's. Fell asleep at Eddie's. Had a nightmare at Eddie's and it's like he couldn't hold it in anymore. He just sobbed. It was heartbreaking and Eddie just held him through it all. Then when Steve got his bearings he thanked Eddie and tried to leave but Eddie didn't allow that.
They argued a bit but Eddie won out and gently guided Steve to his bedroom where he cleaned the scratch, gave him some pajamas which for Steve meant a shirt and that's it. Then they laid down and Eddie knew Steve was scared to fall asleep again but Eddie was running his hands up and down his back softly, rhythmically. Steve tucked into his side and Eddie started humming again and Steve was out. It took a while for Eddie to fall asleep though but come morning Steve was surprised he actually got some sleep.
It became routine for Steve to go to Eddie for sleep or help with nightmares.
Then Steve slipped. He fell asleep at a group sleepover at his house. Pool party this time. Being around Eddie just helped Steve sleep and this time he was one of the first to fall asleep. The kids were surprised, made jokes about it but they were all worried, they noticed just then how tired Steve looked even though he was sleeping. Eddie redirects their attention, he knows Steve wants to tell them about his nightmares, but didn't know how and Eddie wasn't going to be the one to do it. He didn't want to break Steve's trust.
Then Eddie fell asleep and he felt really guilty for that because he knew Steve would probably be freaked if he woke up and realized he fell asleep in front of everyone. He tried to stay awake but he was so damn tired from the day. Then they were all awoken by screams. Terrifying, heart-wrenching screams. They all were looking for the trouble, ready to fight but that's when they realized it was Steve. Steve who was screaming and thrashing and Eddie trying to get close to him.
They all watched in horror as Steve just stopped screaming and instead started gasping for air like he couldn't breath his movements desperate. Robin was crying and trying to get close and Nancy and Jon were trying to keep the kids calm and away. Then Steve started scratching at his neck. His face. And they all started crying and screaming for him to wake up, screaming at Eddie asking what was happening. Eddie had to explain.
He had to explain as he expertly caught Steve's hands and maneuvered himself behind Steve and held him. Yelling at everyone to shut up because Steve would be half asleep waking up and if he heard then crying, worrying, that he would think there was a problem and panic more. So they watched as Eddie spoke quietly into Steve's ear, rocking them and finally Steve woke up for a brief second before he just sobbed into Eddie's chest and fell back asleep.
Eddie had to tell them.
From there they tried to get Steve to open up, talk about everything that happened because they noticed, he was always there for them but they never noticed him struggling or even offered to see if he was. He never spoke about nightmare or problems and they all felt terrible but they were determined to be there now.
It took a while. Longer than they wanted but slowly Steve started to talk about what happened, how it made him feel, things even not Upside-down related.
They were all determined to take care of him the way he took care of them.
And if Eddie was one who took care of him more often than the others that was his business. And if he liked taking care of Steve and making sure he was okay that was his business too. And if maybe he just wanted to kiss Steve's sadness and stress away, again that was his business.
Until it became their business because Eddie actually kissed him one night and messy confessions were made but neither were trade them for anything.
snowghoul
theartofmadeline
