Steve doesn't rush to Eddie's room, guessing it's just another tiny spider in need of relocation. So, empty glass and junk mail in hand Steve is not particularly prepared for Eddie's state when he stops in Eddie's doorway. Eddie seems harried, sitting in the middle of the floor seemingly packing up everything he owns.
"You going on a trip I don't know about?"
Steve huffs a slightly nervous laugh. Maybe Eddie's energy isn't cause for panic, maybe it's good news, maybe the band has a gig, maybe the band has been signed! Maybe that would be cause for Steve to panic, he's not prepared himself for a goodbye.
Just as Steve's thoughts start to spiral Eddie's words fall out of his mouth in a hurry, tripping over one another, a mix of soft panic and loud mumbles.
"No. Yes. Fuck. Maybe?... I have to move out. Maybe move in with Robs and Chris? Or maybe you should move in with them, or they could move here and I could go there, their place is smaller, so three would fit better here. Oh shit! I haven't even spoken to them yet. This is a mess. I'm a mess. Fuck."
"Hey hey, Eds calm down, what's wrong, huh? Why do you have to move out? We've lived together for what, five years? My damp towel problem can't be that bad?"
By now it's all panic, a panic Steve is heroically (if he does say so himself) managing to put aside, in lieu of an aura of calm he's attempting to put off. Lowering himself to sit next to Eddie, not quite touching but close enough that Eddie can take the physical comfort if he needs it. Steve laughs again, a small huff of amused air, levity.
"How can you make jokes at a time like this!? I've literally just realised I've been in love with you for five years, maybe more? Probably more! Definitely more!... And I'm gay!? What the fuck? Gay!?..."
Breathing is no longer Eddie's friend, hyperventilation has taken that role.
"...And I don't know how to turn this love off so I can't live with you until I'm over it and we can just go back to normal. Well, a normal where I want to kiss men I guess."
"Woah woah, that's a lot to take in Ed's. I'm gonna have to sit down..."
During Eddie's impromptu confession, there's a chance Steve lost his calm air, along with oxygen to his brain. He is already sitting.
"You're in love with me?"
"Of course I am you gorgeous idiot. And if I'd worked out that straight guys actually want to kiss girls, and not their very not girl best friends, sooner I could've already gotten over it and this wouldn't be happening!!"
"You're in love with me...."
"For five plus years, yes. And oh my god you're going out with that girl from work, Stacey? Sandra? Sally? The pretty one with the blonde hair and the hips..."
Steve really wants Eddie to stop talking, to get his head out of his hands, to look at him, to say the words again. But Steve can't move.
"...That's how I found out. You haven't been on a date in five years Stevie and then you mentioned her and this buzzing, bubbling feeling inside me was so intense, I've never felt anything like it, I'd never been jealous before, and there you were saying it was probably time for you to go on a date, and all I could think was why not me? We hang out on Friday nights. We watch Gilmore Girls until the early hours. We make dinner for each other and fall asleep on the couch together after a long day at work. Then... Fuck. Am I jealous? Fuck. I'm in love with Steve! Fuck. I'm gay. No wonder Mindy in the 9th grade didn't make my knees weak. Fuck. I have to leave. And here we are."
Finally Eddie takes a breath, letting his arms fall to his lap, briefly using them to wave around the room, emphasising the current, this, of it all.
And finally, finally Steve can move, turn to Eddie and say something.
"Eds, look me in the eye and tell me you love me, romantically, like you really do. I need to know you're not messing with me."
Eye to eye, finally.
"Steve Harrington, I love you. I have loved you since I met you, and although I've only been conscious of it for less than 48 hours, it is the most honest and passionate feeling I have ever felt in my entire life. And if you need me to I will push it away and hold it at arms length to still be your friend but I fear it will still stay with me until the day I die."
Steve could cry, maybe he already is. His hands reach out, cupping Eddie's cheeks, not only forcing his gaze but brushing the soft skin under his thumb, holding him in a way he's always wanted permission to, that has finally been granted.
"Fuck. Fuck Eds. I've been in love with you since the week before we got this place. I've known about it, and felt it, and kept it at arms length. I thought maybe you were ace or something? You never mentioned girls, or guys, or anyone for that matter. I figured romance wasn't for you. I didn't want to scare you away. The only reason I went on that date was because Robs told me it was time to move on. I wish I'd done that sooner. Fuck. I am so in love with you, and I am going to need you to kiss me right now before I wake up."
POV: when you overhear your boyfriend’s bandmates who ⛔️do not like you⛔️ talking to him—about YOU
“Be real though, Ed. Harrington? You can’t actually be serious, here.”
Steve doesn’t like to eavesdrop, like, on principle.
Which is to say he totally does it.
He just doesn’t wholly approve of it, or think it’s a very good habit to have, while still doing it.
“You got me,” Eddie sighs, longer and deeper than can be taken wholly seriously. “I’m running my longest successful con to date.”
rating: t ♥️ tags: post-s4, established relationship, corroded coffin, as in: the gang’s all here and being VERY JUDGEMENTAL of eddie’s taste in men, and maybe steve had to pick eddie up from practice today so he overhears it WHOLLY WITHOUT INTENDING TO OKAY?, no one ever REALLY want to hear what the people they love really think of them when said people don’t know who all’s actually listening, true love, declarations of feelings, it’s actually really fucking hard to stand up to your friends, happy ending♥️
for @steddielovemonth day ten: "We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love." —Dr. Seuss
also! Unnamed Freak is Doug for the purpose of this fic because the book can fuck itself I say so 🖤
“Be real though, Ed,” the voice that filters through, and holds Steve’s hand from pushing the car door shut loud enough to notice, is fairly reasonable, like trying to talk down a suggestion absurd enough to send someone to the ER—which means, of the subjects at hand? It’s gotta be Jeff.
“You can’t actually be serious, here.”
Steve doesn’t like to eavesdrop, like, on principle.
Which is to say he totally does it.
He just doesn’t wholly approve of it, or think it’s a very good habit to have, while still doing it.
“You got me,” Eddie deadpans, but it’s like, venom-laced. It stings just to hear and Steve’s struck with how much his life’s changed since Spring Break, and more still since…well.
Since Eddie.
Because Steve is well aware the man can cut glass with how sharp his tongue can get, they did go to high school together whether they ran in the same circles or not.
It’s just strikes Steve in the moment that not once since Vecna, has Eddie turns that tongue on him.
Now, other uses of his tongue—
“I’m running my longest successful con to date. Yep, totally pulled it over on all you bitches,” and where it could be playful, every single word is sharpened to stab, to pierce, to drag the wound out so it bleeds, like a shiv to remind someone where they fucked up, in perpetuity.
“Please applaud.”
And oh, even Steve flinches at that tone, and he’s not even the target. Hell, he’s still in the driveway—he doesn’t make a rule of crashing band practice, no matter whose parents’ garage they’re using; Eddie’s van is just regularly in the shop for one thing or another, so he’s gotta come get his man. But he doesn’t, like, push his way in. Sometimes doesn’t even get out of the driver’s seat. He knows Eddie would more than welcome him; has the handful of times he’s ventured to step in to apologize for interrupting but remind him they have to pick up the shitheads. But one: Eddie is alone in his welcome, and like, the polar opposite of the other three guys, who range from staring daggers at Steve to sneering so scrunched up to the nose that it’d give Carol Perkins at her snittiest a run for her money.
And Steve wouldn’t have made it this far if he didn’t know how to recognise where he’s not wanted, and learn how to make the calculated decision of whether to walk or push his way in. And much as he loves Eddie? Steve actually wants his friends to eventually come around from probably, like, muttering ancestral curses under their breaths at him or something.
Plus, from what Steve understands? Jam sessions are personal. Sacred. Eddie had blushes and stammered the first time he let Steve listen in on works in progress; and Steve had rewarded him for the gift of it liberally and with genuine gusto. It’s earned him repeat performances on the regular, but Steve gets it’s a private thing in general. And these guys don’t know him, don’t presently care to—don’t trust him.
He figures it’s like…masturbating in front of someone. The art thing, the depth of making music and stuff. Showing your soul a little bit, losing control for the betterment of the final product.
Now, he and Eddie definitely have masturbated together, it’s actually fantastic foreplay, or even just a deliciously sloppy go on its own. But that’s neither here nor there. And also totally fucking different.
Steve really doesn’t want Eddie masturbating in front of anyone other than him, ever again. Steve’s sure as shit not looking to on his end; definitely not with the other members of Corroded fucking Coffin.
The metaphor might have gotten away from him. But you get the picture.
“No, man,” and that’s, that’s Gareth’s voice, Steve’s almost sure. Sharper. Concerned but also caustic on the undertow. “It’s just,” he snorts, the disbelieving sort: “this can’t be real.”
Okay, yeah. Tone plus actual words add up.
“Yeah, just,” Doug laughs a little nervous, like of all of them, Eddie’s verbal attack had the most weight in tempering his response of the three of them; “blink twice if you’re being held against your will.”
They all chuckle, but it’s toned down the whole way around—even Steve can clock that. These guys are boisterous when left to their devices, Steve’s taken note of that. Mostly watching from the sidelines—almost exclusively when they don’t know he’s there to watch.
Again: does not condone eavesdropping.
Does not try at all to refrain from doing it.
“I mean, you don’t expect us to believe you’re actually fucking him,” and oh, yeah, okay: Steve was pretty sure he was the topic conversation here, and despite some of the setbacks of recent years, he’s not insecure when it comes to relationships especially.
He’s definitely the only one fucking Eddie. And Eddie’s the only one fucking him.
And while he doesn’t really hold it against these guys for being wary of him—he wasn’t really a perpetrator of their high school woes, but he definitely didn’t do anything to make them less…woeful—so he’s mostly bummed about it for Eddie’s sake, and on principle, but like, seriously.
Doubting Steve successfully scoring Eddie Munson? Like, Eddie’s a catch, Steve of ll people is well aware, but. Steve’s also been long past fishing the shallow end of the pond, y’know?
Give him some credit.
“Right,” Steve narrows back in on what’s happening in the garage that he’s definitely feeling less guilty bout, seeing as he’s definitely a subject of the debate unfolding, but Eddie sounds…angry. Pissed off in that way he gets when he’s fed the fuck up.
“I’m out,” Steve hears scraping of equipment, the guitar case flipped open; “can’t actually make it next week,” he adds like a footnote.
It’s clear within a second he’s the only one who takes it with that same…energy.
“But we have to practice before the open mic—” Jeff, ever the voice of reason, sounds baffled; on his way to ticked off but not quite there yet.
Eddie, however—as is his wont in this type of mood—could not give two shits where the people around him land on the anger-o-meter; he’s exceeded them, even if only in his own head, and they are all therefore irrelevant to his very responsible decision to put distance between himself and doing something stupid he can’t take back.
It’s not the nicest way to deal but, honestly? Steve’s mostly just proud of Eddie for sticking with a coping mechanism that, while not without consequences, generally works better than most.
“I’ll see you guys in two, then. Probably.” And the case clicks shut, definitive, and Steve’s proud of that too; that Eddie’s not digging a hole when the guys re trying to bait him, intentionally or not, over Steve.
Steve doesn’t need Eddie to complicate his band, his friendships, over what the two of them have. One, it’s not their fucking business. And two?
Steve doesn’t thing he’s being self-important in saying he and Eddie…are bigger, and more, than even the very beat high school band.
Not that Steve would ever ask Eddie to choose or some bullshit like that. And he really does believe Eddie’s going places, if that’s what he decides he wants. But…there’s that.
Then there is them.
Different, like, stratospheres.
“What the fuck came up that you can’t make it next week? When we’re staring down our first actual shot at Battle of the Bands this year,” and yeah, of course, if anyone’s gonna try to drag the whole thing out, it’s Gareth. Kid’s got a fucking temper.
“Something more important.”
Which yeah, that’s what was going through Steve’s mind, basically, but—
“The hell could be more—“
“I have plans,” Eddie hisses, viper-quick and fucking deadly, shuts them all right up for it, but then he spins a 180–preens so big Steve swears he can hear his shoulders go back and his chest puff out:
“It’s my anniversary.”
So…yeah. Just because it was where Steve’s head had just been at doesn’t mean his whole chest goes all gooey to hear it said out loud.
And in front of Eddie’s band, who…they aren’t hiding from, but they have discussed keeping kinda mum around. For the same kinds of reasons Steve’s been privy to just in the past couple minutes.
But then Eddie’s voice follows the feeling in Steve’s chest like they’re tethered there, and honestly, more times than not?
Steve thinks they just might actually be, and he’s not proven wrong with the way Eddie halfway coos:
“Our anniversary.”
“Your what?”
Jeff, again, is that middle ground: actually confused, laced with being angry that Eddie’s ducking out.
“Six months,” Eddie answers, soft-like, a little dreamy but in this way that’s rooted somehow still, and in being struck all over again by a level of shock Steve understands, sometimes feels in reverse, but still doesn’t understand being felt so deep as it sounds, now, when it’s applied to…him.
It’s wild y’know?
“I’m like,” Steve hears Eddie’s curls brush against something as he shakes his head—Steve’s money’s on him crouched by his case, or having it already slung over his shoulder:
“Never thought I’d get something to celebrate like that in the first place, but get to keep it, that long without fucking it up?”
Steve, again, wants to give up the pretense and walk the fuck in there and kiss the shit out of his boyfriend because one, same, but two?
Dumbass.
Steve goddamn adores him.
“You mean, with Harrington?” Gareth’s spitting and Steve just shakes his head, a little sad—he doesn’t know what’s crawled up that kid’s ass about him, man; he’s not so much younger that Steve never saw him or didn’t know of him but godDamn: the circles he ran in at the time weren’t the ones doing shit yet when they were in the same elementary school, Steve was barely popular in middle school, and come high school the worst anyone he knew did to the frosh was bang them into a locker—not great, but.
Not worth this shit. And the worst part is if he doesn’t know what’s crawled he did to really piss Gareth off this bad? He can’t even try to Harrington-charm his way back into the guy’s tolerable category. Like, even his best fucking not-pot brownie recipe didn’t sway the fucker.
“Yes,” Eddie is answering, the answer emphatic, like he’s brimming with feeling over it, but then clipped too, like demonstrating that he was brimming and is now being forced to clip it all backis very much the intent: “of course I mean with Steve, who the fuck else?”
It’s not lost on Steve how Eddie says his name. Ever. All the name.
But right now, how he’s making a point to say it in that warm, kinda…beloved way, when anyone else uses his last name in a way that’s anything-but.
“You cannot be—” Gareth scoffs, Steve can imagine him throwing up his hands, that sort of deal, but then Eddie comes in, and it’s a tone Steve’s only ever hear when he’s about to run a campaign into the ground where the characters may never recover, and if somehow manage it, they’ll wish they hadn’t:
“Oh, I am deadly serious.”
Because it’s not Steve’s character, but in defense of Steve’s relationship, that tone trickles something molten through his veins and prickles up his spine and…he’s gone have to stick that one in his back pocket to explore at a later date, for sure.
“Six months?”
Jeff—and Steve kinda likes Jeff, and not for the reason his bandmates would like, that he kicks around Hawkins after graduation, too, but more because Steve knows why; that’s to make more money for a college outside Indiana, and Steve thinks that’s fucking cool—but it’s here where Jeff dips fully away from being angry to being stupefied. Steve lets himself smirk at nothing because fuck yes: him and Eddie.
Six whole goddamn months.
“I was actually gonna ask you guys to come over soon, introduce him properly and stuff,” Eddie says, the disappointment in his voice again; Steve’s niggling desire to go and hug him from behind, maybe kiss under his ear a little, back in full force.
“He picks you up from practice, we see him,” Doug pipes back up, likewise confused, but Steve just takes the useful confirmation that no one did catch on that he pulled up ages ago, now.
“We know who Steve Harrington is—” Gareth snaps, protests in the way that betrays his eye-rolling, his thin-wearing patience.
“No!”
And that comes out of Eddie fierce enough to echo down at least half the block they’re on—seems like Eddie’s patience was worn out a while ago.
“You don’t!”
And everyone is silent in that way Steve knows all too well: when shit’a gone down but now you’re waiting in the edge for the worse thing to hit.
Then it does:
“And it’s a good thing I didn’t bring it up because you dipshits aren’t ready,” Eddie snaps, says dipshitso different from how he does with the Party, theirParty, their kids; he says it here with something real fucking close to disgust.
“Asking hostage questions, fuck off,” he huffs, and Steve hears Eddie’s footsteps, can’t tell if he’s gonna leave it at that, come find Steve and know he’s been standing there but that’ll be fine, it’s not like Steve wasn’t going to let him know as soon as they left—but then:
“Look,” and Eddie sounds the way Steve sounds when he’s pinching the bridge of his nose to fight a growing migraine, the sting of tears for all sorts of pain behind his eyes, and that hurts to hear from his boyfriend, like, a lot.
It fucking hurts.
“I am not just fucking him,” Eddie growls through the bridge-pinching pain; “I mean, fuck yes, I am, but,” and Steve hears the way he swallows all the way down the drive:
“I’m in this for the long haul,” Eddie tells his bandmates like throwing down a gauntlet; “and if you can’t respect me enough, and my choices, that stings,” Steve knows Eddie shrugs then: “but I’ll live.”
Steve’s about a millisecond from saying fuck it, opening the door just to slam it to announce his approach, and then going to physically grab his boyfriend, drag him to the car, and park in the abandoned lot down from the Wheelers’ neighborhood to kiss him senseless because that’s the closest place he can think of and he doesn’t think he’ll make it to either of their homes before he can’t fucking handle himself.
“But if you are gonna disrespect the man I love, no. Absolutely not.”
Eddies voice is a deadly sort of whisper. Steve would cower at it, the way it washes through a person, if he hadn’t just…said.
That.
“You love him?”
And for what Steve thinks is the first time since he climbed out of the car and committed to listening where he wasn’t invited, Gareth sounds…muted. Genuinely asking a question.
Steve, for his own part, kinda expected that he’d be more breathless, heart racing and shit, to hear the answer but in reality?
“Of course I love him.”
Steve already knew that in his cells, in his bones.
In his steady, not all-that-fast but particularly-especially-happily beating heart.
“Have you guys, like, said it and stuff?”
And of course Steve already knows that answer, both the literal one and the one that matters more, but he does perk up a bit, curious to hear what—if anything of note—Eddie chooses to give away here.
“He has,” Eddie says, and now…now maybe Steve should stop listening because this part, the way Eddie says that as flat fact—Steve doesn’t knowthis part beyond speculation. But…
“I wanted to, like,” and eddies voice can’t hide the way he’s gotta have that soft smile, the one he used to hide behind his hair before Steve started pulling it back to see in full, so now he only brings his hair out just to tease, to okay.
“I don’t think I’ve wanted much in my whole life, but he’s,” and Steve thinks he hears how Eddie chews his bottom lip for a second, in the subtlest click of how it slips free before Eddie takes a deep breath and—
“He doesn’t know what he’s worth,” Eddie starts, a little mournful almost, even, and Steve is unexpectedly glued to the spot in his fucking Nikes.
“He doesn’t understand that I’d sell the sun and the moon just to keep him,” Eddie’s saying, and with passion. With whole-ass honesty. And here, maybe, is where Steve gets to have some of the heart:fluttery feeling after all:
“He comes out the gate with the whole you don’t have to say it back and I just,” Eddie sighs, sniffs a little before heaving another breath deep enough to stretch his shirt, which Steve’s not imagining or anything, at all;
“I couldn’t say it, not right then, and risk him everthinking it was something I’d done to like, match. Like that I didn’t mean it with everything I’ve got, when I mean it with everything I’ve got and then also everything else. Like, anywhere. Ever.”
Steve realized he’d stopped breathing at some point when the little dots start floating in front of his eyes and he sucks in a shaking breath because: he’s known Eddie loves him. Unshakeably.
But, but all this—
“I couldn’t say it and have him ever wondered if I wouldn’t rip my heart out of my chest just to keep his safe.”
And of-fucking-course Steve’s pulse is running fucking riot about how much he’s in love right now, make no goddamn mistake. Jesus, he—
“Fuck.”
And Steve has never heard Gareth Emerson pushed just this side of speechless but: that’s the best way Steve can describe the kind of breathless wonder he says it with, like watching a rare bird take flight.
“You mean it.”
And Steve can pick out Eddie’s huffs and categorize them, on demand at this point: he doesn’t need to see the eye-roll to know Eddie’s deemed the expression of pure shock to be so beneath him in this specific context that he’s deemed it unworthy of any more attention.
His heart’s not jumping that loud to have missed it. So.
Steve just kinda grins toward the blacktop under his shoes.
“Why didn’t you,” Doug starts, still—usually, really, in Steve’s limited experience at least—the peacekeeper, the one who’s most invested at the human level when he’s not getting swept up in whatever the rest of the gang has deemed the cool thing to laugh at or make fun of at any given moment.
The huff Eddie gives this time is his incredulous one, which allows for just the slightest bit more consideration:
“The fuck do you think?”
The slightest bit, being the operative point.
“I’d hoped you’d take it better but,” Eddie adds, and there’s less drama in it than Steve might have expected. He’s being serious with them, and he sounds…disappointed.
Steve kinda want to make some kind of noise, give away his position, and just…hug Eddie tight from behind, if nothing else. Be there. Solid against him, wrapped up around him. Never wavering. Always at his back as much as at his side.
But Eddie’s not done:
“I’m not even asking you to like him, just be decent,” and it sounds like it hurts him to say as much, and Steve knows why; he genuinely despises when anyone thinks Lea with a the very beat thing about Steve. Steve believes this to be n unreasonable standard, and has expressed as much to Eddie who nods and smiles and kisses Steve’s forehead and does absolutely nothing to change his stance, but deep down?
Steve fucking feels so…loved for it.
“And like I said,” Steve can hear the judgement in Eddie’s tone clear as day; “you’re not ready, and I’m not putting him in that kind of situation.”
Steve sucks on the inside of his cheek, lest his grin at the way Eddie is not just defending him, but…protecting him, not his honor but his heart…
No ones ever even tried that before. Steve may not need it, or maybe he just learned he couldn’t survive needing it.
Getting it now…now it’s just…
Wow.
“And I’m in this for keeps, like, this is a forever type thing, so long as he wants it,” Eddie saying, explaining the color of a sky to a small child like what these words are that fundamental, that unalterably true. “So—”
“We’ve known each other forever, man,” Gareth eventually mutters, sounds indignant, but mostly gutted.
Steve knows before it happens that it’s not gonna make a difference.
“And we can still know each other. Just not everything, anymore,” and Eddie does sound a little sad but he’s…he’s a monolith, unshakable. “I don’t trust you with the parts that revolve around him, yet,” and Steve feels more than hears the ways his friends deflate, maybe shrink for being deemed so…insufficient. In the eyes of their ostensible leader, no less.
“Eddie, we didn’t,” Jeff starts, slow, and he doesn’t sound remorseful but—Eddie has all those coping mechanisms for a reason, right?
Because he’s quick to feeling, good and bad, and sometimes neither is fit to the moment.
Steve can’t help but be kinda glad Eddie doesn’t bother with those mechanisms just now, though, if it means he gets to hear this part:
“I know you didn’t, that’s the fucking problem,” Eddie groans, Steve can see the way he lens, bends at the knees and throws his body around a little in sheer, undiluted exasperation. “
“Because I could tell you he’s changed since school, and that’d be true, but that’s not even it,” and there’s more of the frustrated stomping round, Steve can hear it, but he’s…he’s ready distracted by that thing in his chest that has to has to be tied up in Eddie’s, too, that thing tugging on him to pay the fuck attention.
And who is he to ignore it?
“he was never who we thought he was in school in the first place. He is,” Eddie licks his lips, just to snack them loud:
“He is kind and funny, and goofy, and such a fuckin’ nerd, and he’s smart in these incredible ways where he’s sees what everyone else misses, and he’s protective as fuck and he’s got a heart of gold,” and Eddie’s voice only gets more heartfelt in its own right that longer he goes and Steve just, he’s, it’s—
“And I would tear my skin off just so it doesn’t get so much as a scuff on it,” Eddie ends with the most scathing delivery imaginable: he fucking meansthis shit. And Steve is going o live and die next to this man, scuffed heart still kept safe to the fucking end, he will swear that shit to anyone who needs to hear it.
He is going to have a whole fucking life with Eddie Munson, and love him for every single breath of it.
“And I don’t trust you guys yet not to tempt me to tear off my skin,” Eddie says finally after enough silence to catch his breath, and temper his tone just enough to sound tired; a little dejected. “I don’t trust you with him, and until that changes, we’re still friends,” Eddie sniffs, breathes out long; “you just won’t get to know about that part of me.”
He says it so simple, like he’s not half-cutting off some of the longest, closest friendships he’s ever had, and for Steve.
Steve doesn’t know if it makes him a person, or a really selfish one or whatever, if he doesn’t feel any urge to talk Eddie down, to make him walk it back just a little.
He doesn’t think he cares, though, either way.
“Seems like a really big part of you,” Doug says, deflated entirely.
“It is,” Eddie answers, unapologetic in a way that swells and sparkles in Steve’s ribs. “He is.”
“You’d walk from the band?” Of course Gareth asks, but it’s the first time he sounds small in his words. Like he maybe knows the answer, and isn’t so okay with how he got around to it even before Eddie wishes all doubt:
“In half a fuckin’ heartbeat.” Boom. Done. No hesitation whatsoever.
Less than half-a-fuckin’-heartbeat.
“That’s not what I’m saying I’m doing right now, but,” Eddie laughs a little, and that probably cuts deeper than anything for the boys, Steve suspects, especially when Eddie makes it unquestionable:
“It’s not even a question.”
And…maybe that drives a knife deeper for the band, but for Steve?
Steve kinda wants to…giggle, or some shit. He hadn’t realized just how much he wanted someone who answered a question like that, exactly like that, who talked about Steve exactly like that, without anything to gain, just because they…believed it.
“Jesus,” Gareth mutters, sounds kinda blindsided, kinda thrown and then some.
“If we,” Jeff clears his throat after a long period of quiet; “if we do better, could we meet him someday?” And the way he says it, earnest and shit:, like he wants to at least think about, at least maybe try:
“Like, really meet him?”
Like Eddie means enough that he’ll try, and that sings sweet in Steve’s veins because goddamn straight, his Eddie deserves that from the people hecares about. No matter who or what Steve is, Eddiedeserves that much, and so much more.
But he sounds like even just this is something amazing, Steve can hear the smile in his voice:
“Yeah, man,” he answers Jeff, claps him audibly on the shoulder; “I look forward to it.”
And shit, y’know what?
So does Steve.
“See you in two weeks,” and Eddies footsteps follow, guitar slung over his back for the way his weight falls with each one, but then:
“Eddie!”
That’s Doug; the footsteps stop close to the edge of the garage door as another set rushes to catch up, where he’ll see Steve if he walks much farther, where Steve’s got his hand on the door handle of the car, slowly inching it open to push shut and look wholly-unsuspicious now that Eddie might be followed out to his ride:
“Get him flowers. For your anniversary,” Doug says, tone low like a secret; “I know, like, it might seem like guys wouldn’t want flowers, but,” and Steve actually has to strain to hear the next part:
“My mom gets my dad flowers on his birthday every year, and he lights up like the Fourth of July.”
Steve remembers the first time he ever got flowers. His favorites, even if he thinks he only knew it subconsciously because they were handed to him with the stammering explanation of I don’t even know if you like flowers, or like these ones, but you look at them when we’re out, like, just walking or something and your eyes linger, and these ones just remind me of you and—
Apparently, Steve loves hyacinths. And sunflowers make Eddie think of him.
Because of course Steve’s first gift of flowers came from Eddie.
“Thanks man,” Eddie sounds the lightest, most genuine Steve’s heard him since he pulled up and got out of the car; “they’re already ordered.”
And Doug chuckles, and Steve?
Steve bites down his smile to less exploding-star levels—if he’d just pulled up he doesn’t have a reason, save that Eddie is enough of a reason in Steve’s eyes, his mind, the way his chest expands just thinking on him—as he pulls the car door closed again, loud enough to be noticed.
For Eddie to walk out of the garage fast as anything and meet Steve with a smile of his own that justifies the fuck out of where Steve’s had started, anyway.
All star-bright and everything.
♥️🎸♥️
✨also on ao3✨
btw this is either titled ‘halcyon shoegazing’ or ‘heart in your shoes’ so if you have an opinion you should maybe tell me or something, my brain’s tired and is resisting decisions rn
✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here
Written for the @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘first’ | WC: 336 | Rating: T | POV: Eddie | CW: brief sexuality crisis, smidge of jealousy, canon-typical violence | Tags: Post-S4, fix-it
The first time Eddie became aware of him, he'd assumed he was dreaming. A boy from the new school intake who was so pretty, so angelic that Eddie thought he couldn't possibly be real.
The second time, he was in gym class, confused about why he was enjoying watching the basketball players more than the cheerleaders. I mean, that's who he was supposed to be ogling, right?
The third time, Eddie had to repeat a year and they'd ended up in some of the same classes. He'd watched as the angel, Steve, got paired with Tommy for science. Their project was shit, but Steve gained a new best friend. And somewhere deep inside, Eddie was bitter that it couldn't be him.
The fourth time, no one could've known it would happen like it did. Schoolmates dying, the world splitting open, and Eddie fleeing for his life from assholes who wanted him dead. Thrown together in a terrifying, dizzying maelstrom of confusion, Eddie'd initially defended himself against someone he'd assumed was one of the pitchfork-wielding hordes. Then, realising who he had pinned to the wall, a thigh between his knees and a broken bottle to his throat, defensiveness turned to confusion: How is it you? Why are you here?
The fifth time almost didn't happen. Eddie remembers the bikes, the bats, falling, the pain of flesh being ripped from bone. Being cold, so cold. Dustin. And then… nothing.
Nothing, until bright, white lights, and beeps and whirs. This can't be heaven, he thinks, if it's true what what everyone says I shouldn't be here. Plus, heaven doesn't beep, as far as he's aware. But what would he know? Then, voices. Concerned, but happy, excited even. Someone saying something like, ‘Getwayne, Getwayne!’ Who is that, a knight? Shuffling feet. A hand wrapped around his, warm, broad, strong. A blurry figure coming into focus. Hair, so much hair. And then the prettiest, most angelic visage. Is he dreaming again? Or maybe, he wonders, this could be heaven right here.
Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.
“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.
Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.
“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.
“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.
“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.
Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”
Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”
Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”
Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”
“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.
“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”
“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.
He is.
“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”
Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.
“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.
“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”
Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.
“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.
“Harrington.”
“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.
“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.
“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”
“He what?”
Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.
“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.
Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”
Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”
Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”
Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”
Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”
“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”
Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”
“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.
Eddie relaxes but only slightly.
“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”
“Stevie…”
Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”
“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.
“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”
Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”
“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”
It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.
“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”
Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.
“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.
Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”
“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.
“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”
Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.
It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.
Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”
Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”
Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”
Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”
Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”
“I—“
Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.
“Home?”
“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”
Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”
Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”
Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”
Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”
****
I’m back, not dead, and in my feelings. Thinking about expanding on this one. I hope you guys like it. 🧡🧡
Even 10 yrs later, Clementine hates waking up early, but Violet loves watching her struggle to wake up. She thinks it’s adorable and it’s her favorite part of the day.
I think I’ve got either one or two more ideas for this right now.
Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 3, present. | Words: 300 | Rating: T | Tags: post-S4 fix-it, fuck canon don't know her, fluff, steve harrington is a romantic, but so is eddie
The best present Eddie can give to Steve on their first Christmas together is being alive to spend it with him.
The whole Upside Down business has been dealt with at last, but the consequences of Spring Break 1986 linger on and will do so for the years to come, as victory had not come cheap. But they will be alive to deal with those consequences, which is more than either thought they would get when Steve had dropped onto his knees next to Eddie barely alive and Dustin crying his heart out next to him.
And here they now are, in a new city and an apartment they share with Robin, far enough away from Hawkins that Eddie’s reputation hasn’t followed him, thankfully his most important people have.
They’re expecting Wayne to come over later in the day, but the morning is just for the two of them, to just be and appreciate having survived, food and family time is slated for later.
“You’re my best gift ever,” Steve tells Eddie, kissing the words into his neck as he holds him close, hands roaming over scars and inked skin.
“Aww, sweetheart. You’re the gift I never thought I’d get to have.”
They are being utterly sappy and ridiculous, but neither of them care a flying fuck. They survived, are surviving, and they are thriving, doing so while being so much in love. It’s a bit scary, being so in love, and it might come tumbling down some day, because they both know that the world can turn your life upside down when you least expect it.
“The best gift I’ve ever gotten.” Then Steve kisses Eddie and keeps kissing him, forgetting himself in him, they have the morning and it can feel like forever if they want it to.
Kind of inspired by @endlessmusings1801 ’s fic See You on the Other Side where Eddie is recuperating from the demobat attack at the Harrington house post-S4. But…
Idiot4Idiot Steddie where they’re both so used to people only liking them or being nice to them when they want something.
They thus aren’t quite able to process the fact that the other person is being so nice to them for no reason, assuming that there’s some hidden motive, even after saving the world together. They both are, specifically, used to being used for sex. So when the other person is being really nice and caring and soft with them?
Yeah, it has to be because they want sex, right?
Steve and Eddie both speedrun their bisexuality crisis assuming the other wants a quick and easy lay and realizing they’re not necessarily opposed to the idea of sex with the other man so...
They start having sex, both assuming it’s what the other person wants, and hey it feels good and they like the other person as a friend so that’s fine and they’re kind of hot anyways and oops are they starting to develop feelings, while assuming the other person only wants something physical?
Anyways, the two idiots accidentally fall in love and start dating because they both thought the other person was trying to push for sex, and only realize after the fact that that hadn’t been the intention at all, they were just truly being nice and genuinely liked the other person as a friend.
They laugh about it later and the fact that they don’t actually know when they started liking each other because it happened so gradually and bizarrely, though they do consider their anniversary as the first time they had sex for sake of ease.
Robin smacks them both upside the head later when they reveal the truth to her and she laments that they somehow conditioned themselves and each other to be bi and fall in love.
They just shrug and kiss about it because it is kind of funny if you think about it, but they’re both happy and loved, which is all that really matters.
And obviously they were already unknowingly bi and had a small crush on each other, they just didn’t realize it yet.
