Not exactly a first meeting sort of headcanon, because I think of Hawkins as small enough that by the time you're in kindergarten you've met just about everyone in it. But I tend to imagine Steve and Eddie's first real meeting, the one that sticks, is a drug deal.
Steve's the one buying, because it's his money, and even if none of the guys will say it, they're a little scared of Munson. Steve's not. Sure, Munson makes him a little uncomfortable, the way he'll lean into Steve's personal space and lower his voice like he's telling a secret before abruptly jumping back. It's unsettling and weird and Steve definitely doesn't like it, but Munson's not dangerous.
So Steve buys for himself and his teammates, and any girl who's worried Eddie might use the need for privacy to get flirty.
It's not flirty if Munson makes eye contact with Steve, or if their hands brush during the deal. They're literally handing things to each other, it would be weirder if they never touched. Right?
Right. But Steve knows Tommy gets freaked out easily. So for Munson's safety the sake of not losing their access Steve should be the one to buy the pot. He doesn't mind likes can handle the way Eddie likes to rile him up.
Early Days headcanon for the Steddie Beginnings Fest! Thank you, anon!
This is so juicy. I love all the interior justifications for both Steve doing the deals and being able to manage/tolerate/ignore the butterflies in his stomach over Munson. It all feels so very, very Steve. Of course he can handle the way Munson riles him up until he can't.
His life's not too affected by season one. He knew Benny, but they weren't close, and Eddie knows enough about silent suffering to not have any trouble buying the suicide story. Obviously Barb Holland ran away; who wouldn't want to ditch Hawkins if they could? And even as creative as Eddie is, it doesn't occur to him that anyone would make a fake Will Byers corpse. He does spend some time wondering who the kid whose body they found was, but only comes up with a runaway from another small town just as awful as Hawkins.
The social changes at the highschool affect him more. Harrington ditching Hagan and Perkins is hot gossip, but the effects of the schism only occasionally flow down to his social circles.
Eddie actually does have a theory about the destroyed crops in season two: developers who are hoping to buy farmland for cheap. The construction of Starcourt Mall shortly after backs him up on it. Its destruction in a fire just a couple of months after it opened doesn't make Eddie any less suspicious. He knows when you put something up that fast shortcuts happen, and maybe the insurance was the point the whole time? The details are a little fuzzy, but Eddie knows it's shady rich people getting richer.
I love all of this, but especially when the conspiracy theories kick in. Those are so in keeping with Eddie's worldview. He must be personally outraged when it all turned out to be monsters but also vindicated that the building of the mall was super shady and politically/financially motivated.
there's any song besides Egg that you can link to Shiner? 👀👀
Ugh, this is such a great question. Eddie's electric is busted (possibly from an altercation with Al) so he's in an acoustic headspace. He's been picking out his new favorite album Holy Diver but also favorites of his mom's like T Rex and the Allman Brothers Band.
Steve definitely starts connecting his feelings for Eddie with Bette Davis Eyes. He doesn't tell Eddie for like a year.
For some reason, an alternate soundtrack for this fic, for me, is Dancing Barefoot by Patti Smith, although that's more up Robin's alley as a song. Could be that lyric "Some strange music drags me in" but also the whole wintry vibe.
any chance we could get a little drabble from the upon a savage lake verse q(≧▽≦q)
More than a chance, my dear! Thank you for the ask and for everything --
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With my hat in my hand (I’m a hungry man for you)
title also from T. Rex, Mambo Sun, the gift that keeps on giving
There are things Steve doesn’t like anymore. Coffee, swimming, Tears for Fears. Some things are amplified, some dulled. Eddie compared it to having headphones on all the time, where one is covered in cotton and the other one is loud static. And through that, Steve tries to hear the music of his old life.
He always liked Eddie, he’s pretty sure, but now Eddie is – Dustin called it clarion. Brilliantly clear. Steve wants him in every way - his mouth, his cock, his blood. His hand around Steve’s, his arm pulling him in close. The only thing that makes sense, now.
also for WIP Weekend I would looooove an excerpt from Conflict at the Table, I am a Sucker for Steve-as-Dustin’s-adoptive-brother fics
(no rush on these btw since I did just send you two asks in a row!!)
:D this I have a bit written, so. Thank you for the asks! This takes place at Steve's last rager before the shit hits the fan.
TW: General discussion of sexual assault, as a terrible thing.
--
“Got a favor to ask you,” Steve says flatly, and Eddie plants his legs on the ground, straddling the chair.
“I’m wrapping up,” Eddie says. “Just a few more sales and I’ll be out of your hair.” He smirks and adds “Hair,” addressing Harrington and pointing at his mane, which is the only part of him that doesn’t seem outright depressed.
“About that,” Steve says. He rubs his hands over his thighs, and Eddie realizes he’s out here in the freezing cold in just his jeans and short sleeved polo. “There’s a girl here. Marjorie.”
Eddie feels his blood freeze, and it’s not just the weather. “No,” he says sharply. He swings his leg over the chair and stands, walks right over to Harrington. He crouches down and puts his face in close. The only way to deal with these jocks is to adapt their posturing. To his own shock, he hooks a finger in the collar of Steve’s stupid shirt. Steve easily slaps it away but appears too stunned to do anything else.
“I told your friend Hagan,” Eddie says to a wide-eyed Steve. “You want to bed a girl, use your money or your sad attempts at charm and wit. I don’t dope up women so assholes like you can assault them. And anyway, aren’t you and Wheeler –”
Harrington spasms at the word assault, jumping to his feet and knocking over the end table. Great, now this dumbshit is going to argue that’s not rape. Well, another thing the rumor mill agrees on is Harrington is shit at taking a punch. Maybe Eddie can get a quick crack at him and get the hell out of dodge.
But Harrington rounds back in on him, and he looks furious. “Are you telling me–” he looks around briefly and then lowers his voice. “Are you telling me Tommy Hagan wanted fucking knock out drops? For a girl?”
“Not just him,” Eddie mutters. He scans Steve for any sign of an attack but he doesn’t see one coming. Steve turns to the pool, hands on the back of his head, then turns back to Eddie.
“Jesus,” he says. “Thank God I’m done with that asshole. No, I only wanted to tell you – Marjorie. Nancy overheard her friends trying to convince her to try coke, and she seems pretty drunk already and – Marji shouldn’t have that, alright? She has a heart defect. So if she tries to buy from you; if anyone seems like they’re buying for her, you’re out for the night, okay?”
“What – how do you know she has a heart defect?” Eddie can’t picture Marjorie Whomever but he’s pretty sure that’s the kind of thing people would know about. She’d at least be staying out of gym class, and folks around here will destroy you over any small deviance from normalcy.
And how would Harrington know? Right on time, Eddie's traitorous brain supplies a number of images of Harrington making slow, tender, accommodating love to Marjorie.
“We were friends when we were little,” Steve says. He rubs his hands across his probably chilled arms. “And my mom, she wasn’t her nurse, but she was a nurse. She explained it to me. She was probably terrified we’d have too much fun running around and something would happen and they’d get sued, knowing her.”
Harrington makes this face that is weirdly friendly, like he’s asking Eddie to commiserate over how shitty his mom is. Like he wants Eddie to understand. It’s unnerving, and this whole exchange has already depleted him of a bunch of nerves.
“Anyway. I’m asking, Munson.” Then Steve’s eyes brighten and he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a wallet. That’s kind of weird, to walk around your own house with your wallet on you, isn’t it?
“I can cover the cost, if you want.” And Jesus Christ, Eddie lays off drinking when he’s dealing. It’s important to keep a clear head. But he needs to be drunk for something like this. Steve Harrington being earnest, trying to protect his ex-friend and make sure Eddie is equitably compensated at the same time. What the fuck. It should improve his opinion of Steve, right?
“Right, you’re going to cover the cost of one girl’s worth of blow?” Eddie says. How dare he, honestly, King Steve, Lord of the Ruinous Hellscape of Hawkins and Haver of Whatever the Fuck he Wants. Trying to be Steve the Benevolent. Steve the Kind. Whatever.
“If I’m out, I’m out for the whole party, Harrington,” Eddie says. He fiddles with the zipper on his jacket but it’s still done up. He wants to get out of here, and he wants Steve to know that.
Steve opens his wallet without missing a beat but his eyebrows scrunch down. He glances up at Eddie and rubs at his nose. “Party’s gonna move on soon,” he says and now it sounds like he’s trying to calm a bear, or bluff at cards. “But okay, I see your point. How’s 75 bucks?” he asks, and he starts counting it out.
$75 is too fucking much. Thing is, Eddie could bump the price to $100 and the guy would probably pay it. Crazy that what feels like fairness these days is the simple act of not ripping someone off even more than usual.
I’m amenable to that,” Eddie says, begrudgingly.
“That’s a yes, right?” Steve says, a little of that smarmy humor creeping in. But he holds the cash out.
Eddie huffs and rolls his eyes, grabs the stack away from Steve. He unzips his jacket and adds it to what’s in his inside pocket, keeping the bills in order by amount.
“I only had twenties, so you owe me five bucks,” Steve says with a smile like this delights him, but Eddie ignores him, extracts his coke and then feels around in his outside pockets for a joint.
“Nah, I’ll just top you off,” Eddie says because he doesn’t want to owe anyone anything, as a rule, if he can help it. He holds the two glassine packets out to Steve, who goes wide-eyed again and waves him away.
“No, keep it. You can still sell it. I shouldn’t be holding anyway.” Steve scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and nods, like that’s the end of that. He rights the overturned end table, then starts to walk back toward the sliding glass doors to the house. Eddie stands frozen for a moment, unable to process what just happened, but he puts the drugs back in his pockets and lets out a big breath. Behind him, he hears Harrington call out.
“Hey, Eddie?” Eddie turns to him, sees him in half-shadow between the lights around the pool and the shade of the house. “If Hagan or any of those douchebags ask you something like that again, you tell me. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay, Harrington,” Eddie says, and what’s weird is he can picture it. Going to Steve. Informing on those shitheads. The idea gives him a strange, dark feeling of excitement. At last, perhaps, some justice. Steve would do it, too. It’s not like Eddie likes the guy now or something, but he can see that.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” he calls back. He hears the vaguest noise, like Steve has chuckled at that, and decides he’s earned another cigarette as Harrington heads back inside.
As it turns out, Eddie doesn’t have to consider whether Harrington’s parties are worth fitting into his work schedule, because Steve isn’t having any more parties. The Wednesday after that pathetic Spring Fling, the news hits the Hawkins Post. By Thursday it’s picked up in the Indiana Star. Steve Harrington has filed a lawsuit against his parents for what’s called parental emancipation.
I will be around most of the long weekend here and writing for some of it. If you'd like to prompt me for three sentences or more of Steddie or any other fandom I'vedone before on A03, please do!
Open to suggestions, something in previous verses, or WIPs/ideas discussed here. Hit my inbox!
