Written for @steddiebingo Kissing Booth Prompt: Jealousy
Rating: T | WC: 1195
Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!
Eddie is ripping his way through a solo at practice, trying to nail the transition between the solo and chorus. He groans in frustration when he misses the same note he has the last three run throughs. “Fuck.”
Gareth tosses his drumstick at him and thumps his bass pedal. “Eddie, come on, man. We’ve been at this for like an hour already.”
Eddie scoffs. “It’s been like twenty minutes, Gare.” He snatches Gareth’s stick up off the ground and throws it back. “Go from the top of the verse again.”
Gareth and the rest of the guys groan and roll their eyes as Gareth counts them in. Eddie focuses hard on making his fingers move the way they need to, nailing the parts of the song he already has down, gets mostly through the solo and– misses the same note.
“GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!”
Jeff sighs. “Maybe we should table this one for–”
Eddie shakes his head. “No! I’ve almost got it. Just– From the verse again.”
The guys eye him wearily but start again. Eddie’s sure he’s going to nail it this time. He just has to figure out what he keeps snagging on and he’ll be good. He can do this, he– misses the same damn note again! “FUCKING HELL!”
Gareth groans behind his drums. “EDDIE! What the hell, man?”
Doug takes his bass off and goes to head inside. “I need a fucking break, dude.”
Eddie throws his hands up in defeat. “Great. We just got started!”
Jeff sets his guitar to the side and shrugs. “Run through it a few times while we grab some snacks.”
Eddie watches as they all head inside and turns to Steve where he’s been sitting in the corner watching this absolute trainwreck unfold. “I can’t believe them!”
Steve just shrugs and takes a drag from the joint Eddie rolled for him as payment for agreeing to be his ride today. “Just keep going. You’ll get it.”
Eddie sighs and cracks his fingers. Okay. He’s got this. He runs through the parts separately a few times, making sure he has the solo figured out. Then he does the whole first part of the song, letting the muscle memory take over on all the parts he already has down. He keeps going, flowing through the solo again, convinced he’s got it this time and– he misses the whole transition. He groans, tugging on his hair in frustration. “Fuck me. This is impossible!”
Steve sighs and gets up and starts walking over to him, joint still dangling from his lips.
Eddie stares at him in confusion as he comes up behind him and goes to wrap his arms around Eddie and his guitar. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Steve leans forward and looks at him over his shoulder and talks around the joint in his mouth. “You’re skipping a beat. That’s why you keep getting off.”
Eddie’s brow scrunches. “What the fuck are you talking ab–”
Steve swats Eddie’s hands out of the way and starts playing through the solo, Eddie’s fucking solo, flawlessly. And Eddie is just standing there like an idiot with his arms held up awkwardly out of the way so Steve can play. Eddie’s mouth drops open in shock and he stares down at Steve’s hands moving effortlessly along the frets. “What the fuck?”
Steve huffs a laugh in Eddie’s ear, a puff of smoke filling the air around them. Steve gets to the part Eddie keeps fucking up on and slows down, leaning in close. “Right here.” He plays over the spot a few times, showing Eddie the beat he’s absolutely been skipping. “You miss that rest and it throws you off. See?” He plays through it again and goes right into the chorus, no problem.
Eddie nods dumbly, still just staring at the way Steve’s hands look on his guitar. His brain feels scrambled with this new knowledge. Steve just waltzed over here and dropped the bomb that he can play guitar as good as, if not better than Eddie, by ear, and is acting like it’s no big deal. Like he didn’t just completely rock Eddie’s entire world. Because holy shit this is hot.
Steve is hot.
Which like, okay. Duh. Obviously he has eyes and knows the guy is objectively attractive. But he has always just been…Steve. His friend. But now…Eddie is blushing. And if he’s being honest, he’s a little hard. Which is mortifying considering Steve’s hand is basically right over his dick. Eddie has never been jealous of an inanimate object before. But fuck if he doesn’t wish he was his guitar right now with Steve’s hands working over it like this. Eddie shakes his head with a laugh and leans back a little, lifting his hands to run his finger through his hair before lacing them behind his head to give Steve easier access.
Steve runs through the rest of the song before letting go and stepping back. He gives Eddie’s shoulder a little squeeze and plucks the joint out of his mouth so he can flash him a smile. “Try it again–” He flicks the ashes off the joint. “I bet you’ll get it now.”
Eddie just stares at him with wide eyes as Steve goes and flops back down on the shitty couch in the corner with a cocky grin. “What the fuck, Harrington?”
Steve takes a drag from his joint and shrugs. “What?”
Eddie scoffs. “What do you mean ‘what?’”
Steve’s smile stretches wider on his face and he sinks into the couch more.
Eddie shakes his head. “Since when do you play the fucking guitar?”
Steve shrugs. “Since forever. My mom made me pick an instrument to take lessons on when I was little.”
Eddie scoffs. “And you never thought to mention this before?”
Steve takes another drag, the smoke billowing out of his mouth as he shakes his head. “No. Why would I?”
Eddie chuckles, his mind still spinning. “Why’d you let me fumble through this shit when you knew what I was doing then?”
Steve shrugs and nods to the guitar. “Play through it again before they get back.” He looks up and locks eyes with him. “Tell them you figured it out.”
And– oh. He waited to show Eddie until they were alone so he could take credit for figuring it out. God damnit. He’s being sweet on top of everything and–
This is no good. Eddie can feel the sparks of a crush catching fire in his chest, threatening to burn him alive. He clears his throat and nods. “Thanks, man.”
Eddie shakes his head, trying to focus again. He starts at the beginning of the solo, making sure he pays better attention to counting out the beats and– nails it. He flies right through and into the chorus.
He lets out a satisfied sigh, a smile pulling at his cheeks as he looks back up at Steve who is beaming with pride as he starts clapping. “Knew you could do it, Eds.”
A blush rises on Eddie’s cheeks and he nods, trying to shove the swell in his heart down before it gets him into trouble. “Thanks.”
Fic: Our Faces Toward the Moon -- written by @lady-lostmind & @oh-stars
Art by: @oriarts
Art Link
Words: 5,479
Rating: Teen
Warning: No Warnings
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Getting Together, Meet-Cute, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, Fluff, Flirting, Fire Lookout, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson
Summary:
It's Eddie's first summer working for the Forestry Department and he's not really sure what to expect from his duty as a Fire Lookout. When the solitude immediately gets to him, Eddie starts talking to himself through the radio. He didn't expect someone to respond. And he definitely didn't expect to find someone like Steve on the other end. His heart never stood a chance.
Written for @steddiebingo Kissing Booth Prompt: Dress Up
Rating: T | WC: 631
Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!
“This is stupid, Buckley. I look like an idiot. This is never going to work.” Eddie’s face scrunches in disgust as he stares in the mirror, tugging at the secondhand suit jacket Robin shoved onto his shoulders.
Robin rolls her eyes, “You always look like an idiot.” She pulls Eddie to face her and wraps a tie around his neck. “You guys have been dancing around each other for too long. It’s getting ridiculous.”
Eddie scoffs. “And you think this–” He gestures to himself in his best, non-ripped black jeans, black dress shirt, and the stupid fucking jacket. “Is the solution?”
Robin glares at him while she ties the tie. “No. I think you getting your head out of your ass and actually making a move is the solution.”
“And this is the move? Dressing like some yuppie in a suit!?”
Robin flicks him on the forehead, grinning meanly when he yelps and rubs the sore spot. “I think actually making an effort and showing Steve you actually give a shit, is the move.”
Eddie’s face drops. “Is that what he thinks? That I don’t give a shit?”
Robin sighs and she smoothes out his tie. “Steve doesn’t think anyone gives a shit about him.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Even I have to constantly remind him or he gets all in his head about it and pulls away.”
Eddie shakes his head, looking down at his ridiculous outfit with a sigh. “Do I buy him flowers?”
He glances back up and sees Robin smiling widely. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Eddie shows up at Steve’s house with a bouquet of roses, and a baggie of weed, feeling ridiculous as he knocks on the door. He wants to be with Steve. And Robin is right. They’ve been dancing around this for close to a year. But he doesn’t know how to do this. He’s not– He’s never really had a relationship. He’s never really cared that much. He’s never–
Steve opens the door, eyes going wide when he sees Eddie. “Eds, what–”
“I give a shit.” Great. Really solid start, Eddie.
Steve’s brow furrows. “Okay–”
Eddie sighs, pushing past Steve and pushing the flowers to his chest. “These are for you.”
Steve’s eyes go all sparkly as he looks down at the flowers in his hand, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Eddie starts pacing. “I’m not good at this, okay? I know I’ve probably been fucking this up, majorly, and I’m sorry about that. And I know you deserve better than a trailer trash freak but–”
Steve’s face goes soft. “Eds–”
Eddie shakes his head. “I know, I know. But please, just hear me out, okay? Robin said I have a shot. And I figure she knows. And I know this–” He gestures to himself and the flowers. “Is all a little cheesy and over the top but I do give a shit. About you. I give a lot of shits about you. All the shits, honestly and–”
Steve takes a step forward. “Eds–”
Eddie shakes his head holding his hands out in front of him. “I know I’m probably not what you imagined for your life. I know this is–” He sighs. “I just want you to be happy. And I think that maybe– Maybe I can make you happy. If you give me a chance.”
Steve crosses his arms over his chest with a sigh and Eddie’s heart sinks. “Are you done?”
Eddie stops pacing in front of him, his body slumping in defeat. He knew this was a bad idea. “Yeah. I guess I am.”
Steve smiles, wide and cocky as he strides forward. “Good.” He cups Eddie’s jaw and leans in close. “Because I’m going to kiss you now.”
Eddie is leaning against the bar again. Moth drawn to a flame or some other ridiculous metaphor for coming here two nights in a row, hoping the pretty bartender will take the bait. He’s being patient. Not being loud and obnoxious to get Steve’s attention as he flits around getting people their drinks. He just waits his turn. Waits for Steve to notice him, sitting in the same spot he was last night.
Steve’s eyes finally roam his way, flicking back and locking on when he spots him. Eddie grins and wiggles his fingers at him in a wave. Steve shakes his head before heading over and leaning in front of him with a heavy sigh.
“Are you here every night, then?”
Eddie’s eyes glimmer, already getting addicted to this little game they’re playing. He shrugs, “Most.”
Steve pours him a jack and coke, setting it nicely on a napkin in front of him, his eyes lingering on Eddie’s vest, his patches. Knows he’s wondering where he lands in all of this.
Eddie chuckles, “You can ask.”
Steve’s eyes flick back up to his and he blushes before ducking his head with a little shake. “Ask what?”
Eddie lifts his glass to his lips, taking a sip. “Come on. You can’t tell me you aren’t curious.” He gestures around. “Lots of lore to catch up on, Stevie.”
Steve scoffs and mumbles ‘Stevie’ under his breath. Eddie files the little grin that follows it away to reference later. Things that make Steve smile.
Steve glances behind him, checking if anyone needs his attention. Maybe hoping they do, so he has an excuse to leave Eddie by himself again. But he settles in more against the bar when no one snags him back to work, looking at Eddie with curious eyes. He nods at Eddie’s vest.
“Do the patches all mean something?”
Eddie hums, a smug grin pulling across his face. “Yeah. They do.”
Steve’s eyes flick to Eddie’s left shoulder, where his V.President patch sits.
Steve lets out a low whistle, his eyebrows raising as he reaches out and trails his finger over the patch. “Vice President? That seems like a very important patch,” he says with mock reverence.
Eddie huffs out a laugh and shrugs. “You could say that.”
Steve pulls his hand back and crosses his arms. “Guess I better be on my best behavior then. You’re basically my boss.”
Eddie leans back and hums, letting his eyes slide slowly up and down Steve’s body. “Oh– I like the sound of that, big boy.”
Steve’s mouth pulls into a wide smile and he leans forward like he’s got something very interesting to say about that when someone slams their hand down on the bar, making Steve jump. He gives Eddie one last look before turning to go back to work.
Eddie shakes his head and mutters ‘Fuck’ under his breath. He’s so screwed. He promised Chrissy he wouldn’t do this anymore. Wouldn’t fuck around with her hires anymore. It always ends badly and then they want out, and Chrissy is left having to vet someone new. But–
Eddie looks over at Steve with his pretty hair and sweet smile. The way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the easy way he moves around the bar. Moth to a flame. He really can’t help himself. Steve bends down to grab something off a lower shelf and Eddie groans, watching his jeans stretch tightly across his perky ass.
He can make it up to Chrissy.
–
Eddie rips down the highway feeling the rumble of his bike between his legs, the wind whipping in his face. He takes a deep breath, soaking it in. Most people would tell you they like to ride because of the rush it gives you. Addicted to the adrenaline, the risk, the power you feel with such a heavy piece of machinery under you. But for Eddie it’s when he feels calm. When all the excess energy that’s constantly bouncing around in his body and mind just stops. The world blurs out and he doesn’t have to worry about anything but the curve of the road. Following lines on the ground. Staying upright. It’s simple. Easy.
Eddie sighs, slowing down to take the turn off that leads to the club’s garage, already mourning this, wishing he could just ride all day. He pulls into the parking lot and cuts the engine, twirling his keys as he heads into the garage, flicking on lights as he goes. When he gets to the back office and light floods the dark room, he jumps, seeing someone sitting at the desk.
Chrissy turns in the chair, arms crossed and glaring at Eddie. “No, Eddie.”
Eddie grabs his chest, leaning against the doorframe and trying to catch his breath. “FUCK ME, CHRIS! You scared the shit out of me!”
She points at him, shaking her head. “No!”
Eddie rolls his eyes, shrugging out of his leather jacket and hanging it on the hook by the door. “Nothing has even happened.”
Chrissy gets up, walking around the desk and getting up close to him, looking up at him with daggers in her eyes. Eddie would laugh at the irony of something so small and cute looking so deadly if he wasn’t absolutely terrified of her when she’s like this.
“You promised me, Edward.”
Eddie winces. “Don’t Edward me.”
She smacks the side of his arm. “Leave Steve alone. I’m serious.”
Eddie sighs. “Chris–”
She shakes her head, reaching up and pressing her finger against his lips. “No–no. I don’t even want to hear it. Steve has had a rough time, okay. He doesn’t need you smearing his heart all across the fucking ground, okay? Not to mention I really don’t want to find a replacement for him.”
Eddie sighs, pulling her hand away from his face. “Then why did you hire him? You know me. You knew what he would do to me. I can’t help it.”
Chrissy rolls her eyes and goes to lean against the desk. “Listen, Steve is a really good guy. I’m just trying to help him out, okay? Just…don’t hurt him. He deserves better.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide. “What did you drag him into all this shit for then? You sure he can even deal with–”
Chrissy huffs out a laugh. “Oh, don’t worry about that. Steve can handle himself just fine. Just–” She sighs, running a hand down her face. “Seriously. Don’t fuck around with him if you don’t think it could actually be…something, okay? Don’t make him just one of the many Munson casualties.”
Eddie’s mouth drops open with a scoff. “How dare you, Christine!”
Chrissy shrugs. “Don’t even. I know what a slut you are.”
Eddie’s mouth pulls into a cocky grin and he slides in close to Chrissy, trailing a finger down her arm. “Don’t be jealous, sweetheart. You know you’re the only girl for me.”
Chrissy swats his hand away and scrunches her face in disgust, a choked laugh escaping her throat. “Ew. Don’t remind me of that. Ever again.”
Eddie chuckles and leans on the desk next to her. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman, okay? But babe, he’s way too hot. I can’t just– not.”
Chrissy sighs. “Yeah, I know. I knew it when I offered him the fucking job, honestly.”
The door opens and Wayne walks in, glancing between them both. “Uh-oh. Whatever you did boy, I’d start apologizin’. I wouldn’t want to be on that girl’s bad side.”
Eddie holds up his hands. “I haven’t done anything. I’m completely innocent.”
He gets up and heads back into the garage to get started on today’s jobs, ignoring Wayne’s little huff of disbelief and the way he leans in close to Chrissy and mumbles, “You don’t let him get away with shit, you hear me?” under his breath.
Chrissy’s giggle rings out from the office and Eddie shakes his head as he grabs his tools.
Eddie strides into The Hideout with a heavy sigh, letting the loud roar of music and drunken debauchery wash over him and settle his nerves. He moves through the familiar space quickly, nodding to people as he passes and makes his way to his usual table. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, nudging Gareth’s shoulder as he plops down in the chair next to him, flicking ashes haphazardly in the direction of the ashtray. “How’s it hangin’ Gare? You get lucky with that pretty girl last night?”
Gareth rolls his eyes and flicks him off. “Fuck you, Munson.”
Eddie huffs out a little laugh. “Guess that’s a no.”
Eddie’s eyes scan over the bar, landing on an absolute bombshell of a man serving drinks that looks ridiculously out of place in their grimey clubhouse bar.
Eddie smacks Gareth’s shoulder and points. “Who’s the new bartender?”
Gareth snorts. “Leave him alone, Eddie.”
A cocky grin pulls at Eddie’s mouth and he holds up his hands innocently. “I didn’t do anything!”
Gareth shakes his head. “His name is Steve. Chrissy hired him.”
Eddie hums, taking another drag from his cigarette as he watches Steve smile as he pours a drink. “He know what he’s getting into, working here?”
Gareth shrugs. “I’m sure she filled him in. Chrissy doesn’t hire someone new lightly.”
Eddie lets out a long sigh, tipping back in his chair before letting it slam to the ground and getting up. “I’m suddenly very thirsty.”
Gareth groans and mumbles under his breath. “Good luck, Steve.”
Eddie chuckles, his grin pulling wider as he saunters over to the bar and leans against it. Eddie whistles and waves when Steve looks over at him from the other end of the bar, holding up a finger before turning back to the drink he was in the middle of making.
Eddie flicks his cigarette before letting it dangle from his lips, knocking his knuckle against the bar in time to the song playing. Steve makes his way over to Eddie, leaning against the bar with a shining smile, the hem of his shirt riding up and showing a sliver of skin. Eddie’s eyes linger there before he drags them back up to Steve’s face where he’s staring at him intently.
“What can I get for you?”
Eddie leans in close, talking loudly over the music. “I’ll take a jack and coke, handsome.”
Steve scoffs, but Eddie catches the way his mouth quirks up at the corner as he turns away.
Steve brings him his drink, setting it down lightly with a turn and a tap on the bar. “Enjoy.”
Eddie snatches the glass up and swirls it. “Oh, I’m sure I will.”
Steve rolls his eyes and moves on to another customer. Eddie stays put, watching him work and flashing him little smiles whenever his eyes wander over to Eddie’s end of the bar. Eventually Steve wanders back over when his glass is empty and points at it.
“Another?”
Eddie nods, sliding his glass across the bar into Steve’s hand. Steve fills it up, eyes flicking up to Eddie’s face as his cheeks flush a pretty pink. Eddie smiles at him again, making sure his dimple pops on one side.
Steve goes to turn away again and Eddie calls out, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the music. “You’re new.”
Steve turns back, raising his brows and leaning his hip against the bar. “Yep, first night.”
Eddie takes a sip before settling his ringed fingers around his glass, tapping them lightly. “How’ya liking it so far?”
Steve huffs out a laugh and looks pointedly around the rambunctious room. “You guys know how to party, that’s for sure. Tips are good so far, though.”
Eddie grins and nods. “Oh, yeah. We’re very generous to those holding access to booze.”
Steve shrugs. “Wasn’t sure since this is a private club. Drinks are free, right?”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “I mean, if you don’t count the membership fees, sure.”
Someone at the other end of the bar raises their hand to grab Steve’s attention again. He sighs and gives Eddie a ‘back to the grind’ look before topping him off and heading back to work. Eddie sighs and downs his drink before digging into his wallet and setting a hundred dollar bill under his glass. He makes his way toward the door, flicking Gareth off and clapping him on the shoulder as he passes.
He’s just swinging his leg over his bike when the door opens. Steve steps out, a crumpled bill in his hand, raised in front of him in question. “Hey! What the fuck is this?”
Eddie leans back on his bike and shrugs, mouth pulling up on one side. “A tip.”
Steve rolls his eyes and strides forward, hand on his hip as he holds the money out with the other. “For two drinks? This is way too much, man.”
Eddie shakes his head and reaches out to push Steve’s hand back. “For the good company.” He pats Steve’s hand before he leans back and kicks his bike to life, throwing a wink at Steve as he revs it loudly and pulls away.
Written for @steddiebingo Countdown to Midnight Prompt: Blind Date
Rating: T | WC: 840
Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!
Eddie shifts nervously in his seat and checks his phone again.
7:16pm
He sighs, turning to glance at the entrance to the restaurant. He knew this was a bad idea. Why did he agree to go on this stupid date in the first place? Who even goes on blind dates anymore?
Fucking Buckley. She promised him this guy was great. Talked him up so much he sounded damn near perfect.
Well, Mr. Perfect is almost twenty minutes late already. He’s probably not even going to show. Or– fuck. Maybe he did show, saw Eddie, and fucking left. That would be Eddie’s luck, honestly. Regardless, he’s not thrilled about being stuck at this stupid restaurant alone. The waitress keeps giving him this little pity smile when he says he’s “still waiting on someone” and he’s pretty sure the couple two tables over are watching him like he’s a fucking car crash happening right before their eyes.
Eddie snatches his phone up again, his leg bouncing in annoyance.
7:21pm
Eddie shakes his head and opens his texts.
Eddie (7:21pm): I hate you.
Buckley (7:21pm): 🥺 What did I do!?
Eddie (7:22pm): Your magical mystery man is standing me up.
Buckley (7:22pm): ????
Buckley (7:22pm): There’s no way.
Eddie (7:23pm): Me and the empty table in front of me are having a great time. Really.
Buckley (7:24pm): Please hold.
Eddie rolls his eyes and contemplates getting up and bailing for the millionth time since he sat down. At this point even if the guy shows up, this hasn’t gone exactly well. He’s annoyed, and embarrassed, and starting to feel like this whole thing was a pity set up or something and–
His phone buzzes on the table and he grabs it, a message from Robin lighting up the screen.
Buckley (7:26pm): Where are you, idiot?
Eddie’s mouth drops open in offense, his thumbs thudding against the screen as he types back.
Eddie (7:26pm): I’m at the fucking restaurant! How does that make me an idiot? Other than thinking this was a good idea in the first place.
Buckley (7:27pm): No. Steve is at the agreed upon restaurant. Idk where tf you are.
Eddie’s brow scrunches together and he shakes his head, scrolling up in their conversation to find the details for tonight.
Buckley (4:13pm): Enzo’s at 7 on Friday. Look hot.
Eddie drops his head to the table with a thunk. He is an idiot.
Eddie (7:28pm): …I’m at Alonzo’s.
Buckley (7:28pm): 🙄
Buckley (7:29pm): Idiot.
Eddie gets up and grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, tossing a ten on the table for wasting the poor waitress’s time and heading out the door.
Eddie (7:30pm): Is he pissed?
Eddie sighs, digging his keys out of his pocket. Of course the guy is pissed. Eddie was pissed two seconds ago when he thought he was the one being stood up.
Buckley (7:30pm): No. He was worried about you.
Buckley (7:30pm): Because he’s amazing.
Eddie curses under his breath as he hurries across the street to his car. He hadn’t even considered something being wrong to make Steve this late. Just assumed he was an asshole and not showing up.
Eddie (7:31pm): Tell him I’m sorry and I’m on my way.
Eddie (7:31pm): Please.
Buckley (7:31pm): I will.
Buckley (7:32pm): You better make it up to him, dipshit.
Eddie sighs and tosses his phone on the passenger seat. He cranks his van to life and hopes he still can.
Eddie pulls up outside the restaurant and slams the van in park, rushing to get inside, He glances at his phone as he walks in.
7:45pm
Fuck. This poor guy has been waiting on him for almost an hour.
He hurries over to the host stand, out of breath and frantic. “Hi! I’m supposed to be meeting someone here. I’m a little late.”
“Eddie?”
Eddie turns in the direction of his name, eyes landing on the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his entire life. He’s waving at Eddie with a huge grin like he didn’t just spend an hour waiting on him.
“Fuck me. I’m such a fucking idiot,” He mumbles under his breath as he stands there, staring like an absolute moron.
Steve drops his hand and shifts in his seat.
Right. Go over there, dummy.
Eddie nearly trips over himself as he makes his way to the table and slides into his seat across from Steve. “I’m so sorry. I went to the wrong place.”
Steve flashes him a pretty grin and shrugs. “That’s okay. I’m just glad you made it.”
Eddie’s heart swells as he realizes this guy means it. He’s genuinely just glad Eddie is okay and got here eventually. He doesn’t even seem annoyed.
Buckley’s right. He thinks he’s probably going to spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to him.
I had the absolute pleasure of getting to write a fic based on this amazing art by @ahhrenata for @strangerthingsreversebigbang!
Link to art post
Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!
Read the fic on ao3 or under the cut!
Eddie rolls over with a groan. He feels awful. He can’t breath out of his nose, there’s so much pressure in his head he feels like it might explode and his throat feels like he swallowed a cup of razors. He lets out a truly pathetic whimper, the sound catching in his throat as it turns into a cough. He stretches his arm out, feeling around for Steve and is met with cold, empty sheets. He whines again and finally pries his eyes open.
“Stevie?”
He hears Steve pad down the hall and then he’s opening the door to their room, a soft smile on his face as he peers down at Eddie on the bed. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
Eddie sniffles loudly. “I don’t feel good.”
Steve sighs and leans against the door frame. “I told you not to go out in the cold with Dustin the other night. You didn’t even have a coat.”
Eddie groans again and flops over, reaching his hand out to Steve. “Come cuddle with me.”
Steve huffs out a laugh. “You’re whiny when you’re sick.”
But he pushes off the doorframe and crawls onto the bed, dropping down next to Eddie and letting him wrap his limbs around his body and press his face against Steve’s chest.
Eddie snuggles in and hums, ready to fall back asleep for forever, or until he can actually breathe again. Whichever comes first.
Steve’s hand lands on his forehead, pushing his bangs out of the way. “Baby, you’re hot.”
Eddie lets out a little chuckle, his voice low and raspy from the pain in his throat. “I’m flattered, sweetheart. But I don’t think I’m really up for anything sexy right now, Stevie.”
Steve swats his arm. “I wasn’t coming onto you, asshole. You have a fever.”
Steve pulls away, like he’s going to get back up and Eddie holds on tighter to him, another whine slipping out of his lips.
Steve rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go get you some stuff.”
Eddie’s hand flops onto the bed as Steve gets up and disappears from the room. Eddie rolls back over, pulling the blankets up and burrowing under them to fall back asleep.
–
Eddie wakes up to Steve nudging him gently, holding out a little cup of red liquid. Eddie’s face scrunches up in disgust and he shakes his head with a groan, trying to hide under the covers again. “I hate that shit.”
Steve rolls his eyes and tugs the blanket back. “Eds, you gotta take this. It’ll bring your fever down. Come on.”
Eddie groans again, but pulls himself up to sit and takes the little shot of medicine with a grimace.
Steve chuckles beside him. “I’ve seen you drink jager straight from the bottle and you’re making that face over cherry cough medicine?”
Eddie shoots him a cocky grin. “Jager is good though. That shit tastes like pennies.”
Steve shakes his head, pulling the covers back up around Eddie’s chin. “There’s tissues and water next to you on the table. You want me to drag the TV in here?”
Eddie shakes his head, already settling back into the pillows and drifting off. He reaches out a hand to tug at Steve’s wrist.
Steve sighs, climbing under the blankets with him and pulling him close. “You’re gonna get me sick.”
Eddie grins and plants a wet kiss to the back of Steve’s hand before he falls asleep again.
–
The next time Eddie resurfaces it’s to Steve’s fingers trailing softly through his hair. He sniffs, whining when it makes the pressure in his head spike.
“Made you some soup, baby. You hungry?”
Eddie nods and forces himself to sit up, smiling at Steve when he hands him a bowl of chicken noodle. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Steve leans over and presses a kiss to Eddie’s temple. “You sure you don’t want the TV in here? We could watch some movies.”
Eddie shrugs. “I’ll probably just fall asleep five minutes in. But you can bring it in if you’re bored.”
Steve shakes his head and grabs a book off his side table, wiggling it in the air. “I’m good.”
Eddie’s eyes lock on the book and his jaw drops open. “Are you finally reading The Lord of the Rings?”
Steve flashes him a big grin and nods. “They’re confusing though. How do you keep track of all these crazy names?”
Eddie chuckles. “You get used to it after a while.” He sets his empty bowl aside and lays back down, peering up at Steve with big, pleading eyes. “Will you read to me?”
Steve’s face scrunches up. “I’m not very good.”
Eddie scoots in closer, plopping his head onto Steve’s lap. “I just want to hear your voice.”
Steve’s hand finds its way back into Eddie’s curls again. “Do you want me to start over?”
Eddie shakes his head. “I’ve read them like ten times. You can start where you left off.”
Steve nods and opens the book, clearing his throat. “‘I wish it need not have happened in my time,’ said Frodo.”
Eddie lets the familiar words wash over him. Steve’s voice making him feel safe and warm, the fingers in his hair soothing him to sleep.
–
Eddie wakes up again, his throat burning and raw. He’s alone in the bed again and it’s dark. The blankets tucked in tight around him, making him over heated, his hair plastered to his forehead. He sits up, reaching for a tissue as a harsh cough racks his body. He groans, wincing as he wipes his mouth.
Eddie hates being sick. And yeah. He knows nobody likes being sick. Obviously. But he can’t stand it. It makes him feel trapped in his own body. Trapped in his bed. He doesn’t like to sit still for so long. To feel like he can’t do anything.
The door creaks open, a sliver of light peeking through before it disappears again, Steve’s body blocking it out as he leans in, a sad little smile on his face. “You okay, baby? Heard you coughing.”
Eddie lets out a pathetic whine, falling against the pillows again, somehow still exhausted even though he slept through most of the day already. “No.”
Steve pushes the door open the rest of the way, comes up to him and puts his hand on his forehead before making a little tsk noise, and brushing his hair out of his face. “I’m going to get you another dose of medicine.”
Eddie groans, grabbing Steve’s wrist and shaking his head.
Steve chuckles, bending down to press a kiss to Eddie’s temple. “What if I bring you a popsicle to chase it with? Make your throat feel a little better.”
Eddie’s eyes flick up to Steve’s, his eyebrows shooting up. “Not sure your popsicle is going to help my throat much but–”
Steve rolls his eyes with a smile, tugging his arm back and shaking his head. “Would you stop? You’re awful.” He heads back to the door, turning back with his hands on his hips. “Orange or cherry?”
Eddie whines. “No grape?”
Steve chuckles. “You and Dustin ate all the grape, baby.”
Eddie huffs out a breath. “Orange then.”
Eddie grins as Steve leaves the room. He really hates being sick. But he doesn’t mind this whole Steve-taking-care-of-him thing. That part’s pretty nice. He can’t really remember the last time someone did this for him. Thinks it must have been his mom, when he was still little. Remembers curling up with her on the couch, her humming softly as he fell asleep.
He doesn’t have a lot of good memories with her. Mostly screaming matches with his dad, and her disappearing for weeks at a time. But there were a few times when things were good. When he felt loved. When he really felt like he understood what it was like to be wanted.
And then he’d gone to live with Wayne. And he did his best. And Eddie knows he loves him. Knows he would do anything for him. But he’s a grumpy old man who never thought he’d be raising a kid. His version of taking care of Eddie when he was sick was buying some soup and leaving it on the counter for Eddie to make while he was at work. And that was fine. Eddie is grateful for everything Wayne has done for him. It just wasn’t exactly a lovey household. Not that it wasn’t full of love. They just…didn’t really show it.
But he feels the love in everything Steve does. Sees it in the way Steve’s eyes light up when they look at him. In the way his hands always linger. No matter where they touch. Like he never wants to be more than a breath away from him.
Like he wants nothing more than to bring him a stupid orange popsicle when his throat hurts to make him feel better.
Eddie smirks as Steve comes back into the room, cough medicine in one hand, popsicle in the other.
–
Eddie feels a little better when he wakes up the next morning. Late morning. The room bright with the sun peeking in through the blinds. He’s still sick. Still can’t really breathe normally. His throat is still protesting every time he tries to swallow. But he feels a little less dead. And he didn’t wake up drenched in sweat this time so, hopefully that means his fever is gone. Thanks to Steve’s stupid medicine. Not that he’d ever admit that to him.
Steve comes in with a plate piled high with toast, and a mug of tea that Eddie is sure has way too much honey in it, for his throat.
Eddie takes the offered breakfast with a sleepy smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Steve presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “You’re welcome, baby. You feeling better?”
Eddie shrugs, stuffing half a piece of toast in his mouth. Steve climbs onto the bed with him, grabbing Eddie’s book from the table on his side of the bed, settling back against the pillows.
Eddie perks up, shifting so he can watch the way Steve’s mouth wraps around the words Eddie knows by heart. They’re some of his favorite configurations of words in the world, and Steve somehow makes him love them even more. He loves the slight hesitancy he has as he stumbles over the names, the pauses he adds in strange spots when he’s clearly trying to piece parts of the story together. He can tell he’s really trying to get it. Trying to understand why Eddie loves this so much. Trying to understand Eddie more. Which he’s pretty sure no one else has done before.
Everyone else just takes him at face value. The loud, over the top, obnoxious behavior, his weird obsessions and interests. People either look at him and want nothing to do with him, or they look at him in awe, like he’s something shiny, something to distract them from whatever bullshit is going on in their own lives. But he’s never had someone look at him like he’s something to be treasured. To dive into and see all the sides of. Until Steve.
Steve, who he knows hates half of the stuff Eddie is into but still asks questions. Who knows Eddie’s favorite songs and books and movies. Who knows he prefers grape popsicles. Who looks at him in that awestruck way even when he’s quiet. When he’s just existing in their space, not putting on a front or a show. Steve still sees him, even then.
Eddie leans forward and presses his lips to Steve’s, cutting him off mid sentence.
Steve huffs out a laugh against Eddie’s lips before pushing him back. “Is my reading that bad?”
Eddie shakes his head and takes another bite of toast, getting crumbs all over the bed as he scooches closer to Steve who lifts his arm to tuck Eddie into his side.
–
By day four Eddie is still feeling pretty bad, and worn out, but also bored. He still doesn’t have the energy to leave their bed much but he also can’t stand just laying around anymore.
He shuffles his way out to the living room, ignoring Steve’s squawk of protest as he spots him from where he’s doing dishes in the kitchen. Eddie makes it halfway to the coffee table before Steve is there, a hand towel slung over his shoulder as he tries to push Eddie back down the hall.
“What are you doing? Go back to bed.”
Eddie groans and gestures to his stack of notebooks on the table. “I’m bored, Steve. I want to work on my campaign.”
Steve nudges him back again, a crease forming between his brows. “I’ll bring them to you. Go lay down.”
Eddie lets out an annoyed whine but turns and heads back down the hall, collapsing on the bed where he immediately lets out a sigh of relief, the pressure that was building in his head from being vertical backs off as soon as he hits the pillows. Because Steve was right, of course. He should have just asked him to grab his stuff for him.
Steve comes in a few minutes later with all of Eddie’s notebooks and campaign books piled high in his arms. He dumps them on the bed and disappears again, coming back with a stack of Eddie’s tapes and his walkman, adding them to the mess on the bed and perching on the edge.
Eddie grins at him. “You’re the best, you know that?”
Steve shrugs, a little blush flashing on his cheeks. He reaches out and squeezes Eddie’s knee. “Just know you like to listen to music while you work. I’ll bring you some dinner in a little bit, okay?”
Eddie watches as he gets up to go, smirk firmly in place as he pulls his notebooks closer to him and flips the top one open, trying to jump back into the story he was forming.
–
Eddie stares down at his notebook, sniffing loudly and tossing a crumpled up tissue onto the floor next to the bed. He taps his pen on the page, trying to will the scene to write itself. A cough works its way up the back of his throat and sticks there, making him hack over and over until he’s pulling in a wheezing breath and falling back against the pillows.
“Fuck me.” He groans out, shoving his notebook away with a huff. He hates being sick. Can’t even manage to focus on his campaign for more than fifteen minutes before he’s coughing and exhausted and–
Steve pushes the door open with his hip, a steaming bowl of soup in his hands and a bright smile that reaches his eyes on his face.
Eddie sighs, pulling himself up to sit against the headboard and lets Steve fuss over pillow placements as he hands over the soup. He stares up at Steve, his chest full of adoration for this wonderful man who works himself into a tizzy because Eddie didn’t make sure he was properly supported by his pillows. Because how is his gorgeous man even real? How did Eddie get so lucky?
Eddie sets his soup on the side table as Steve leans over him, trying to manhandle Eddie into a position he deems acceptable and Eddie grabs his face, pulling him into a soft kiss, smiling against Steve’s mouth when he feels him melt a little into the touch.
Steve pulls back with a chuckle, pushing against Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s like you’re trying to get me sick, Eds.”
Eddie lets out a laugh and sniffs, trying not to be an oozing, gross mess with Steve so up close and personal. “Sorry. I just can’t help myself when you’re being so sweet.”
Steve’s face blooms red and he ducks his head with a little shake before standing and grabbing Eddie’s soup off the table again, pushing it back into Eddie’s hands. “Eat your soup, baby.”
Eddie gives him a little two finger salute and nods, dimple popping on his check. “Yes, sir.”
Steve rolls his eyes as Eddie takes a big spoonful, making an obnoxiously loud slurp just to see the way Steve’s face scrunches in disgust.
–
Eddie wakes up in the middle of the night, coughing and wheezing, trying to catch his breath and be quiet so he doesn’t wake up–
Steve’s hand lands on his back, rubbing gently.
Eddie groans, looking guiltily over at Steve. “Sorry I woke–” His voice catches on another cough, sending him into another fit.
Steve sits up, hand still on Eddie’s back, the other coming up to sweep the hair away from his face. “It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”
Eddie nods, sucking in a deep breath and trying to ignore the tickle in the back of his throat threatening another cough. Steve gets up and heads out of the room, coming back with a glass of water that he hands to Eddie before sliding back into bed, his hand finding its way back to its spot on Eddie’s back. Eddie takes a couple of small sips before setting the glass aside and laying back down, Steve scooches in close, pressing their foreheads together, one hand still on Eddie’s back, the other working its way to tangle in his hair.
Eddie hums reaching up to cup Steve’s face, feeling content as his eyes slip closed.
–
The next morning Eddie wakes up feeling much better. He’s still a little stuffy, but his throat doesn’t hurt anymore and his head feels a little clearer. Like the sick haze is starting to dissipate. He stretches, letting out a satisfied groan and slips up to jump in the shower.
The hot water does wonders for him and by the time he steps out of the bathroom, rubbing his drenched hair with a towel, he feels almost human again.
He glances over at Steve, still fast asleep in the bed. Eddie’s brow scrunches together and he looks at the clock. 11:15am.
Huh. Steve never sleeps in this late. He gets up obnoxiously early to work out before he gets moving for the day. Eddie climbs back into the bed and presses soft kisses along Steve’s jaw, smiling when his sleepy eyes peek open at him.
“You slept in.” Eddie traces his fingers along Steve’s arm.
Steve lets out a little whimper, pressing his face into the pillows.
Eddie pushes some hair out of Steve’s face, his fingers grazing his forehead which is blazing.
Eddie curses under his breath, planting his hand more firmly on Steve’s skin. “Oh no, sweetheart.”
Steve peers up at him with big, sad puppy eyes, his voice strained and nasally. “I’m sick, Eds.”
