Tags: Getting together, WWII AU, Easy Company Lieutenants Steve and Eddie
Pairings: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson
Rating: M
Summary: A close call with death prompts a life-changing move.
Series: @corrodedcoffinfest 2nd Annual CCF: Media Mania
Steve’s lips are cold.
Soft, yes. Just as Eddie knew they would be. But still so cold.
And that’s not what he should be thinking about. No. Fuck that – no. He should be reveling in this moment, in the culmination, the fucking climax of over a year’s worth of hoping and pining and hoping some more. Of talking himself out and through and in between a thousand different conversations. Of stroking his dick with a quick fist and a bitten bottom lip, fast and dirty in the shower house or under the thin, wool blanket in the barracks.
Or rather, Eddie should be thinking about the danger that ignites the frigid December sky in blinding, crackling blooms of white and yellow.
Of the pine trees that become secondary shrapnel, pillars of the Bois Jaques forest reduced to projectiles as they’re hit again and again with enemy fire.
Of the shouts of his company, barking orders and desperate cries marry in the cacophony of chaos until they’re no more than white noise.
Of the symphony of screams for Doc Owens, and how E Company’s beloved medic screams right back for spare morphine to placate the dead and the dying.
Of Sergeants Emerson and Goodman in the next foxhole over, cussing a rabid blue streak for more ammo that they all know they don’t have.
Of the replacements the company was handed yesterday, Privates Henderson and Sinclair, that he hasn’t even bothered to learn their first names yet, because fuck this place and fuck the fact that they probably won’t live to see tomorrow.
No.
All he can think about is how in one second, a Kraut mortar plummeted from the sky and landed six inches from Eddie’s foot. How in a millisecond, he had his life flash before his eyes, and in that tiny fragment of time, he regretted it all. Every last moment not spent with First Lieutenant Steve Harringotn. All of the pining and longing and stolen glances that Eddie would swear up and down were returned until he talked himself out of it; t’s all not fucking worth it because he never had the chance to tell Steve how he feels.
Until the mortar didn’t detonate.
Until it just sat there, smoking, wheezing out a dying breath while Eddie and Steve held theirs.
Until Eddie’s trembling fingers fumbled for the button on the breast pocket of his jacket, fishing for a smoke he never got to light, because Steve fucking Harrington grabbed him by the nape of his neck and kissed him.
Shit.
Maybe he is dead. Maybe he’s halfway to heaven already and God is giving him one last hurrah, as a way of saying Thank you for your service, soldier! or some shit before he’s catapulted straight to hell.
Because it can’t be real. Steve’s lips are cold, mashing all that plushness hard against his mouth in a way that makes his teeth bear the brunt of the kiss. It’s brutal. It’s rough. Literally rough; Steve’s untrimmed stubble scratches against Eddie’s dry skin, chafed raw from lack of care and the bitter cold.
It’s too callous and unfeeling –
OhJesusFuck.
It was too callous and unfeeling, until the tip of Steve’s tongue prodded at the seam of Eddie’s lips, begging him for entrance and wouldn’t you know it?
Warmth.
Blissful, sultry, sinful warmth roars like fire through Eddie’s veins, groaning as he welcomes Steve with a tilt of his head and a fistful of fatigues. Eddie wrenches Steve closer, tasting and licking every last inch of Steve, painfully aware of their vulnerability in their poor excuse for a foxhole, but too lost in Steve’s flavor to care.
A blast, far too close to where they recline entangled in the frozen dirt, rips Eddie from the embrace of Steve’s lips. Shock and fear and lust paint Eddie’s normally pallid cheeks pink, further deepening when Steve puffs out a husky laugh.
“Been wanting to do that since Currahee.”
The laugh that bubbles forth sounds hysterical. And maybe it is, given Eddie’s current surroundings. “Basic training?” he blurts, eyes flaring wide when Steve nods. “When Lt. Creel had us eat all that spaghetti and then run –”
Steve’s hazel eyes are dancing with mirth. “Three miles up, three miles back. Yeah.”
“I’m pretty sure I puked my guts out in front of you.”
“Yet somehow, I still fell.”
There’s so much more to be said. So much that Eddie wants to lay at Steve’s feet, to meet him halfway after devastating him with the world’s most monumental kiss, but he won’t.
Not right now, not when there’s an ominous lull in the action, where Officer Hopper and Newby’s bellows of Incoming! fade as lonely echoes.
Steve’s still got his hand cinched tight around the back of Eddie’s neck. “We should –”
Eddie draws him closer, memorizing each freckle that dusts over his nose, every mole that somehow makes him all that more beautiful. “Pick up right where we left off.” He forces down a swallow. “Once this is over.”
Tender fingers sweep over the baby hairs at the brim of his helmet. “You want that?”
Eddie could kiss him again. Slow and sweet this time, pretend the world doesn’t exist outside of this 3x4 crater in the ground. Show this man that he’s walked through fire and ice with just how much he wants.
A swell of voices rips Eddie from his reverie, and a sinking feeling weighs in his bones. This night’s not over, not by a long shot.
“I want a lot of things, Steve,” puffy plumes of heated breath swirl in the minute space between them, and Eddie squeezes his hold on Steve’s jacket before releasing him and snatching his M1 off the ground. “And I want them with you.”
Steve whose mom used to hum to him, softly in the dark when he was small. A tune that stayed with him, long after she stopped. Sometimes he hums it, especially when he's feeling lonely. Doesn't see Eddie until he hears:
"Is that… are you humming Smoke on the Water?"
Steve jumps in his skin. Turning to face Eddie, he quirks an eyebrow. "Smoke what water?"
"Smoke…on the Water. Deep Purple. Steve. You were literally just humming it,"
Steve flushes, unaware that he'd been humming loud enough for Eddie to hear. "I don't know what that means Eddie," he says, snippy he's been caught, "I'm just humming."
"How can you hum Smoke on the water and NOT know what it is? STEVE??" He scrambles after him. But Steve is silent, ignoring his questions.
Until it gets too much.
"My mom," he hisses back. Eddie immediately claps his mouth shut.
"Your mom,"
"My mom,"
"YOUR MOM knows deep purple. Oh my god Harrington what the fuck your mom is metal," he says, awe evident in his voice.
Steve just sighs. Thinks he'd going to get shit for it. Only to be met with a grinning Eddie.
"Do you even know how good that song is?"
"Dunno I've never heard it before,"
Two days later, Steve comes home to Eddie and his acoustic guitar, the dragon-slaying one, softly playing the tune he knew.
Steve can't help the way his body melts, how he folds at Eddie's feet, listening to the soft twang of the guitar, and remembers his mother.
Wayne’s not so sure how he can do this anymore. The bills are piling on themselves and it’s getting to the point where it’s challenging Everest. It was stupid to check the cost of his stay at the motel. It was stupid of him to be driving his car this much when he can just walk to the hospital each day. It’s only a little way down the road. It could have kept him from filling up his gas tank for another week.
It was stupid for him to do a lot of things, but here he is. Sitting in front of his notebook and splitting his paychecks up into pieces. Taking more out than he should to pay off the motel a little so the bill goes down. Knowing that he can always have a payment plan with the hospital. Take a loan out or something.
All because a house he’d always dreamed of moving into opened up. All because he, stupidly, wondered if he could make just enough to afford the down payment. The mortgage. And he probably could of, if he had somewhere to couch hop instead of paying for this room. If he asked for just a little bit of help. He could have stretched it just thin enough.
There were grants he could have applied to. People willing to donate money to those in need after the earthquake. Anything to give himself a raft to float on. But Wayne’s always been stubborn enough to try and build one on his own. Know he’s drowning because of it.
He does the thing he always did when needing to forget about the world. Burn through a few cigarettes and wish they were cans of beer. Maybe something a little stronger. Question the viability of his vices and his reliance on them to forget. All while trying to remember the point of all of this to begin with.
When the last one in the pack hits the stub, he crushes it into the ash tray. Trying to hold back the damn from breaking. To keep his tears where they need to stay. Inside with his fears. Even if he’s alone, in a room he’s struggling to afford. Even if he could really, truly break in the comfort of solitude.
And if he did, no one needed to know.
All he wanted was a home for Eddie to walk into after the hospital. A room that looked like his back in the trailer with band posters and books pooling of the shelves. Random little figurines and Knick knacks that were so priceless with meaning, but worthless other wise. The acoustic that Wayne saved up to buy, and the electric that Eddie took up dealing just to be able to think about affording.
All he wanted was to be a good father to his kid. To provide the most basic necessity. A safe home with food on the table. A space where Eddie could escape his problems and just be himself. Wayne couldn’t even provide that right now.
His boy was struggling to find himself again, while Wayne’s struggling to stand on two solid feet. He needed the home just as much as he wanted to provide it.
The next day, Wayne pulls himself to the hospital even though he just wants to sleep. Wants to listen to the pull in his back to just give himself the rest he needs. Knowing that he’s going to haul himself off to work and try to get in some overtime.
But here he is, sitting in the hospital room watching Eddie sleep. Just like he has been. The same damned cycle that doesn’t seem to end. Only improving slightly to provide a false sense of security.
It’s starting to get really predictable.
The seat next to him fills, Steve sitting next to him. “Hey. How’re you doing?”
Wayne doesn’t have the energy to lie or tell the truth. So he just shrugs. Steve huffs in agreement.
“Yeah, that tracks.”
They in silence until Wayne asks a question burning on his tongue. “How does it feel to look at a bill and know you can just pay it? Without having to take away from something else?”
“It doesn’t feel like anything,” Steve responds after pausing to think.
“That must be nice.”
“It was.”
Was. Wayne takes surprise to that. “I wouldn’t expect you to have to worry about stuff like that.”
A pained smile finds its way to Steve’s face. “There’s a lot of things you wouldn’t expect about me.”
Wayne doesn’t say anything, trying to give Steve the space should he decide to share more. A few weeks ago, Wayne would have probably lashed out at him. Thought that he was just looking for pity from someone who had nothing left to give. But he’s been more willing to listen. To see beyond his assumptions.
To let someone, he wouldn’t initially think of, let him know that this isn’t a problem only he deals with.
But instead, Steve goes back to silence. When he does speak again, it’s to pull the conversation back to Wayne. “Is something bothering you? Is that why you asked?”
Wayne grunts. Not believing he’s about to share money problems with the son of one of the richest men in Hawkins. Someone who grew up with every luxury there was. Not thinking about the other side for a second. But here he goes, sharing one of his deepest insecurities to open, listening ears.
“I’m just worrying about the bills starting to pile up, that’s all.”
“I’m sure that really stressful. At least Eddie’s hospital bills should be taken care of, that should give you some relief.”
The rest of the room becomes a stark silence. A rush of confusion coming to Wayne’s head. “What?”
“Has his bill not been taken care of?” Steve looks shocked, and angry.
“Not the last I checked.” Wayne starting to wonder if he’s even checked at all, or just went straight to assuming. With all the chaos, it was hard to keep track of the days. What he did in each of them.
Steve stands, rather abruptly. Swearing under his breath. “I’m going to go make a phone call. I’ll see you later.”
Wayne nods goodbye as Steve leaves the room. Glad he shared what he did, even if he was hesitant to. Now he might have a fighting chance to pay his debts. Now he might have a chance to get a house for his boy to go home to.
For himself to go home to. It’s enough hope to make him want to cry again.
Time passes at some undetermined speed. The minutes on the clock slowly ticking by. Creeping toward the time where Wayne has to leave to be able to get to work on time. Wondering if it’s worth it to head back and try to get some rest before he goes.
But he waits. Patiently waits for something to happen. For Eddie to open his eyes and remember him. Say something in his direction other than swears. Say something that he actually means.
It’s later in the afternoon when Eddie starts to stir. His eyes blink open and stare blankly at the ceiling. Realizing all at once that he’s stuck in this fate. Look so defeated while he tries to do something as simple as raise his head.
It’s like he’s back to being newly born and learning how to do things on his own. Anger and sadness being the most reliable emotions. Rampant frustration knowing that he’s capable of more, but just can’t.
Wayne steps in when Eddie grips the handrails and tries to pull himself into a sitting position. Places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder to stop him while he readjusts the bed. Making sure Eddie’s pillows are still comfortable.
Eddie leans deeply into the bed with a silent thank you in his eyes. Hands falling in his lap, gently twitching and starting to fidget. If Eddie was wearing his rings, he’d be spinning them around his fingers.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have a book or anything to read to you,” Wayne says to fill the silence. Not quite knowing what to say. “It’s just me today.”
Eddie stares at Wayne like he’s searching for something. Mixed with a knowing sadness behind it all. He knows what he did, Dustin said as much the other day. He’s starting to remember more and more. New and old pain coming back to him all at once.
It must be exhausting.
“That’s ok,” Eddie breathes. Barely a whisper. It’s the first thing he’s said to Wayne that he actually means.
“You just missed Steve,” Wayne says cautiously. “Still don’t fully understand how the two of you ended up hanging out over the break. Or became what I’m assuming is some level of friends. If what he says is true. But I guess people change right, otherwise he wouldn’t be givin’ you the time of day let alone visiting you this often. Turned out to be a nice kid.”
Wayne’s just talking to get some kind of reaction. Filling the space with nonsense just to be good company. So Eddie doesn’t feel so alone anymore.
“I’m doing ok,” he continues. Making sure that Eddie knows not to worry about him. “You know me, just working at the plant. Tryin’ to get some overtime. Like normal. I’ve been stayin’ at this motel down the road so I can be here if anything happens. Don’t have to drive across town.”
Eddie takes a deep breath. Mouth opening as words start to form. “I’m sorry.”
“For what, you did nothing wrong.”
Tears gloss over Eddie’s eyes. The pain releasing itself in the only way it knows how. “I ran. I’m sorry.”
Wayne sits on the edge of his seat, getting as close to the bed as possible. “Listen to me, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You were scared, you ran, we all do. I don’t care what happened in that week. I don’t care what happened yesterday, or the day before. What matters now is that you’re here, and you’re getting better. That’s all that matters to me.”
“But,” Eddie chokes. Breathing in deep. “I yelled at you. I’m sorry.”
“You were scared. You’re in pain. I know you didn’t mean it. It’s ok. I didn’t go through all of your teenage years without getting screamed at, I know how to take it.”
“I want to go home,” Eddie says, voice breaking.
Wayne wants so much to be able to give him that. Wants to lie and tell him it’s waiting for him. But Eddie’s going through enough already, he doesn’t need the lies. The truth might not be the nicest to hear, but it’s better than the feeling of a revealed lie. Wayne didn’t need to add anything to Eddie’s pain.
“Yeah, I do too.”
They sit in silence until Wayne has to go to work. Stands from the chair and wishes his back would just act like twenty years ago again. Says his goodbye to Eddie and makes his way out the door.
“Love you, Wayne,” Eddie says to him before stepping outside of the room.
Wayne turns back to look at Eddie practically falling asleep again. “Love you, too, Eddie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
note: a little earlier this week cause I'm going on vacation. chapter now posted on my ao3 as well.
next part
tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,
canon compliant and with a bit of whimsy because we all need a little whimsy in these trying times.
***
Everyone is scattered to the wind except for Steve and the middle school kids. Steve is working at the Middle School. He's lonely, but he does really love the kids. Surprising Mr. Clarke is becoming a good friend at work. He always liked Mr. Clarke in school and after the guy got read into the party and everything went down he helped Steve get the job in the first place.
Mr. Clarke suggests Steve try community college or correspondence classes. Steve ends up doing a bit of both because he is working but in researching correspondence courses he came across something he decided to try for fun: Emelius Browne's Correspondence College of Witchcraft. Steve thinks it will be like Magician's tricks and illusions that would be fun when working with kids so he signs up. He is surprised to receive what appears to be actual spell work and a crate of supplies. He almost drops the jar of poisoned dragons liver.
Now on Ao3 as well as below
The supplies sit for a couple weeks while he focuses on his education classes. The weekend after he's finished midterm exams for his classes it is snowing hard so he's stuck inside. It's frustrating because he's got extra energy from sitting for his studies and also because he feels like he did well so a buzzing with that as well. This is when he remembers the magic stuff and he has nothing better to do so he starts to fiddle with it. It doesn't seem that difficult, maybe the 1st lesson is showmanship, he thinks.
He is more than a little surprised when the spell actually works, albeit not perfectly. After that he blazes through the first lesson and sends off the course work at the post office Monday morning before work.
About 2 weeks later he receives another lesson packet as well as notes from the packet before. Instead of diving right in he makes to a rule that he has to finish his regular school work before he gets to work on the magic lessons. He's making better grades in school because it's something he wants to learn for a job he wants to do and he doesn't want to mess that up.
He makes his way through magic lesson after lesson and it is exciting of course, but a bit frustrating because a lot of his spells will work, but maybe be a bit off. One time he tried to shrink a cup, but it only make it shorter not proportionately smaller like the course indicated. Another time he caught a high schooler bullying one of his kids and cast the spell to turn him into a frog, but instead of a green hopper he had a white, long eared hopper on his hands- a white rabbit. It didn't last very long, but that kid never picked on anyone else again.
One day he's is at Eddie grave. He visits from time to time. Dustin made him promise to check it frequently for vandalism, but he finds himself coming out more often for himself nowadays.
"Ah, damnit, already?" Steve says when he sees the potted pot of flowers he put out last week seem nearly dead.
Then he remembers the spell from lesson 11.
Steve looks around and say nobody else. He stood at the foot of the grave and held out his hand in focus.
"Reviviscere, renovare, surgere!" he commands.
The flowers continued to droop dryly.
"Damn it. That worked on Mrs. Nelson's rose bush. Maybe these were to far gone?" he wondered at himself, then tried again. Still nothing. A petal fell from the flower as if taunting him.
Steve sighs the dropped to the ground.
"Sorry dude, I know you'd appreciate it more than most too", Steve says. Two more petals fell. In that instance something in the graveyard felt off and Steve squinted at the potted plant trying to figure out what it was. Then he felt it- a tremor from the ground.
"What the-"Steve startles, visions of cracked red doorways to the Upside Down dance in his mind as he waits.
It was quite and still and then the ground shook more. A small tremor, not like any of the times before, barely anything and if he hadn't been sitting on the ground he would not have even felt it, but it was still weird.
Was it? No it couldn't be, thinks Steve. The vibrations continue. He backed away several graves, and presses his hand to the ground. Nothing. Returning to Eddie's grave, the tremors had gotten stronger.
"Holy Shit!" Steve said. He froze for a moment with the unbelievable thought that had entered his head, then turned to the small shed by the treeline.
The lock is easy enough to break and a shovel is now in his hand as he runs back to the grave.
The flowerpot is turned on it side and there is an area where the sod has cleaved and risen up. Fingertips, pale white as new roots against the dark for the earth rise up.
Steve drops the shovel and dives down to dig with his bare hands. Hands, arms, and then a familiar face appear with eyes closed against the dirt. A mouth opens and pulls in a breath so hard it sounds like something ripping.
"Eddie! Oh Jesus, Eddie," Steve says as he pulls the man from the grave. They tumble to the ground gasping and Eddie coughing up dirt.
Steve can't take his eyes off Eddie, like he's afraid if he looks away the guy will disappear. It's when lashes blink away the dirt and Eddie's dark eyes meet his that Steve feels some level of calm. He isn't sure who started it but soon they are both smiling and laughing in that way that he'd only laughed before when the world was ending.
Eddie pushes himself to sitting, still looking at Steve.
He spoke, coughing breaking up the words but Steve understands him.
"Did we get him?" Eddie asks.
The question surprises Steve for only a second. Of course. Eddie missed the last time around, never knew how the plan to kill Vecna the first time ended.
"Yeah, yeah we got him, but not when you are thinking", Steve says as he helps Eddie up and half carries him to the truck.
"Nice ride", Eddie says with a confused look.
"Thanks, it's new. There's, ah, a lot of new things, since you've been gone. Oh, and I'm a witch now", Steve says.
"What?" Eddie's look of confusion exponentially increases in intensity.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up and I'll fill you in on everything," Steve says and they get in the car. If they get strange looks on the way back to Steve's trailer, he is too thrumming with happiness to notice.
***
Anyone get the reference for this slight AU?
Banged this out in one shot tonight so it's probably got some issues
62: It's okay to cry & 71: You are the single best thing to happen to me.
Thank you very much for this, I love these prompts and got real carried away with this! I hope you enjoy!
If you had asked Robin Buckley to describe her relationship with Steve Harrington back in her freshman year, she'd laugh in your face.
Why on earth would King-Steve be caught talking to her, let alone do it enough to constitute a relationship?
He was a popular jock, and Robin was a freshie with a trumpet.
It wasn't how things worked.
Steve operated on the outside of her periphery. She had an awareness of him, his actions in the popular crowd. Like any minor celebrity, the gossip mill ran rampant with tales of King-Steve.
"Harrington scored the winning shot at last night's game! Not many Juniors get opportunities like that!"
"King-Steve told Tommy to leave Harvey alone cuz he's just a freshie, saved him from a swirlie -swear to God man".
“Yeah well, I heard he broke Byer’s camera the other day, so--”
"Have you seen his hair, ugh he's so dreamy!"
To which Robin thought, 'I've seen him leave half a bagel of crumbs all over his English notes, how dreamy can he be?'
And to top it all off, Tammy Thompson wouldn't stop staring at him, twirling her long blond hair around her pink varnished nails while reading sonnets from Romeo and Juliet loudly at her cafeteria table, trying valiantly to catch his eye --peak romance right there.
But Robin wasn't quite ready to think about how much she wished Tammy would bat those long lashes at her, nah, hating Steve Harrington was easier.
Besides, he had no idea she existed, right?
Robin grabs a can of Coke from the fridge, reaching into her pocket for change before joining her mother at the till.
The corner store was all the way out on Main Street, but still closer to home than Mevalds or the grocer on Parsons so Mrs Buckley had stopped for a few things on their way back from Robin's band practice.
She slides the change onto the counter and pops the tab before throwing a thumb over her shoulder, "I'll go wait by the car mum".
Mrs.Buckley nods distractedly, waving her hand with a smile and she hunts through her purse for her checkbook.
Robin makes her way down the aisle to the entrance, the little bell above the door jingles lightly. She steps over the threshold into cool November air and shrugs her jacket collar up against the chill.
She sighs as she looks back through the window, her mom seems to be taking her sweet time, chatting with the clerk now and going through her checkbook with a smile.
A muffled groan catches her attention from across the lot, she tilts her head towards the sound and startles when she spots Steve Harrington, the bane of her existence, leaning against a car with a can of soda pressed to his beaten bloody face.
He hasn't seen her, his eyes are trained at a point just ahead of him as he rolls the can over his split cheek.
What the hell?
Robin leans away, keeping herself behind her mom's station wagon and out of his sight line.
Who would have kicked the shit out of old King-Steve? And where were his two cronies Hagan and Perkins? She had so many questions and--
Steve sniffs once, pushing the heel of his free hand into his eye as he drops the hand holding the can.
Oh.
Robin suddenly feels as though she's intruding on something private. Watching this boy she's never talked to, who she saw last Monday walking with the rest of the basketball team into the cafeteria, Nancy Wheeler hanging off his arm with an affectionate roll of her eyes and the biggest grin plastered all over his dumb face.
But this Steve is hurt and alone and smaller than she's ever seen him before.
It's bizarre.
Suddenly he's moving, throwing the can to the gravel and stepping off the car before sliding his arm across his face in one motion, he clears his throat and throws open the driver's side door.
The engine of his beemer roars to life just as Robin's mother exits the store, she frowns as Steve peels out of the parking lot, brakes squealing.
"Honestly, why they give teenagers licenses, I'll never know," Mrs.Buckley mutters under her breath as she unlocks the car and hands Robin the paper bag, "do you know that boy?"
Robin watches as the tail lights of Steve's car disappear around the corner, the image of his hunched shoulders and black eye branded in her mind's eye.
Robin shrugs once as she opens the passenger door, "Not really".
***
It's not until two years later that Robin crosses paths with Steve again, slinging ice cream with the former King down at the new mall.
Her first job and it’s at some horrible sailor themed ice cream shop of all places and to top it all off, she’s stuck with Steve Harrington.
Sure, she'd seen him in passing at school, watching as he slowly fell away from the popular crowd. While it was somewhat satisfying to see Tammy pretend she had never really been interested in the former King of Hawkins High, she couldn't help but remember the way Steve looked that day, face bloody, holding a cold can of pop to the worst of the bruises.
Robin can't help but wonder just what had suddenly turned Harrington's life completely on its head that day. She'd heard it was Jonathan that had beaten him up, but given how weirdly close he, Nancy, and Steve got after that cold November day, she didn't really believe it.
Wasn't he rich too? He drove a BMW to work for chrissakes. So why was he here?
And then there’s the kids.
They follow him around like ducklings, begging for rides during his spare time and free samples of ice cream on the days he’s working.
It would be endearing with anyone else, but it’s Steve Harrington.
They've been working with one another for about two weeks before it happens again.
Robin idly sprays the glass display case with the spray bottle from the back. Whatever green liquid is in the unlabeled bottle smells absolutely foul but it's the only thing in the store powerful enough to get rid of all the finger and face prints on the glass from kids standing on their tiptoes to see the flavors.
They end up having to clean the customer side of the window far more often than their employee side and normally she and Steve will flip a coin for it.
Neither of them enjoy being out from behind the counter, the shorts and the socks are reason enough for this, but it also has the negative effect of piquing enough customer interest to interrupt their down time, like the movement and streak free glass shine draws their eyes.
But, nine times out of ten Steve would ‘lose’ and pick up the spray bottle without complaint.
Robin had started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose, but why the hell would Harrington do something like that?
She wrinkles her freckled nose and starts wiping the glass, clearing away the smudges and dirt before spraying again to get at the more stubborn fingerprints.
Steve is late today, which is weird.
Another surprise from Hawkins golden-boy, Robin would have expected Steve to waltz in twenty minutes late to every shift, with a scowl on his face and a refusal to pull his weight.
But it was the opposite.
Steve would get there early, he would review the cleaning list for the day, check the inventory to see what ice creams would need to be restocked and what the special was for the day.
The only thing Steve had ever asked her to do, was to write out the specials on the board.
When Robin had scoffed and asked why he couldn't do it himself, Steve had gotten very quiet, chewed his lip for a beat and said, "I don't want to mess it up, or have you have to redo it for me".
Steve shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, "sometimes the letters are weird when I read and then it makes it harder to write them out”.
He sighs but it comes out more like a scoff, “there’s a reason I’m still here Buckley”.
Oh…so the golden boy of Hawkins High would not be leaving for college in the fall then.
He looked at her, his big eyes traced over her face as though he were looking for any hint of a laugh.
And what else could she do in the moment but pick up the dry erase marker and shoulder him out of the way of the board with a, ‘you owe me dingus’.
She turned her face away at the small smile Steve gave her, ignoring the twinge in her chest at his tiny confession.
God Dammit, he was not endearing, he wasn’t!
Robin balls up the rag she used to wipe down the glass and looks up to the wall clock on the far side of the food court.
It’s nearly eleven in the morning and Steve is still not here, she’s tempted to use the phone in the back to call his house when she remembers she has no clue what his phone number is or if it would even be listed.
She’s sure he’s scheduled with her today; it’s Tuesday, they always work Tuesdays together.
Robin looks around the food court, scoping out the entrances and nearby tables. There’s no sign of him, no obnoxious hair, no big goofy grin, or big hazel eyes to be found.
She huffs and makes her way to the back room, pushing the swing door open hard enough that it makes a satisfying bang against the wall.
She freezes at the sudden yelp from the back corner.
Steve whirls away from her, his face tipped into his open locker, his shoulders are a tense hunched line. It's a horribly familiar pose and once again Robin can’t help but feel like she’s witnessing something she shouldn’t.
“Steve?” she says softly, taking another step into the room, “whats--”
“I know I’m late,” he mumbles, the words are tight but there’s no waiver to them, “sorry”.
Robin wishes she were better at this sort of thing --her mom always seemed to know what to do and what to say when people were upset. That skill definitely skipped a generation in her case.
He turns to face her, slowly, one hand on his nose, the other holding his wrist against his chest.
There’s an ugly, rapidly purpling bruise running down his arm where it’s cradled. The shape is strange, almost as if someone had grabbed him - it runs around the entire circumference of his forearm and--
Oh.
Steve eyes her challengingly but there’s no real heat in it, his eyes slightly shiny in the awful humming fluorescent lights.
“Actually,” Robin swallows roughly after nearly a full minute, clearing her throat as she leans back on her heels, “Uh, Marcus said we only needed one person on today, it’s slow as shit so,” she shrugs and tilts her head to the employee entrance, “you could go home if you want”.
Steve stares at her, his eyes raking over her face the same way he did after the white board incident, before he sniffs once and shakes his head, muttering under his breath that he’d rather get hit by a bus and Robin stiffens at the implication.
“You’re a terrible liar Buckley,” he says eventually, closing his locker and running a slightly shaky hand through his hair before walking towards her and the storefront, “but thanks,” Steve says softly as he passes.
“Does that mean I can go home?” Robin calls after him, immediately wincing but pleased at the startled laugh she hears from the counter.
She follows him out front, slowly, suddenly feeling with absolute certainty that she really doesn’t know Steve Harrington at all.
***
Robin never thought she would be here.
Not once did she think she would have ever come out to someone while she was still in highschool, let alone the former King of Hawkins high who would in turn become her best friend, her platonic soul-mate if you would.
After the debacle that was their official last shift with Scoops Ahoy and the Russian Spy Alternate dimension bullshit where Steve risked his damn life to save her and the kids --who all knew about this monster filled Upside Down just by the by.
So many things suddenly made so much sense, Steve and his injuries over the years, his weird relationship with Nancy and Jonathan, even the sudden personality 180.
And through the truth serum, the torture, the fire, and running down another car driven by a maniac from California, Steve was there to hold her hand, and Robin is infinitely grateful for it.
They take a job together at Family Video, attached at the hip ever since the mall burned down in July; the video store is one of the few places still hiring that summer that pays a dollar above minimum wage.
It’s not exactly glamorous, it’s mostly restocking the shelves and rewinding tapes but it’s easy and the hours are good.
She and Steve are able to get their shifts together most of the time, they both know this is so Keith can avoid working with Steve directly -a bonus if there ever was one.
Things have been quiet ever since Billy’s death and the Mind Flayer’s obliteration from their world, but it’s been especially quiet since the Byer’s packed up and moved to California.
Most of that seems to be influenced by the cloud of sadness that has draped itself over the rest of the kids and Nancy -who has been coming by more and more lately, stopping in at Family Video and lingering in the evenings, chatting with Steve while Robin shelves the returns.
It wouldn’t even have made a blip on Robin’s radar if not for the way Steve would shut down for the rest of their close after Nancy left.
He refuses to speak more than one word answers, refuses to engage with Robin’s one sided bantering as she balances the till and shuts down the neon Open sign.
It’s nothing like after she saw the bruises at Scoops, nothing like the quiet acknowledgement that the Harrington house wasn’t all money and sunshine the way she thought it was.
And Robin doesn’t know what to do about it.
It’s been going on for weeks now, and she’ll be starting school again soon. She won't be able to take the same number of shifts as she could over the summer months, and Robin has no idea what will happen when she’s not there as a buffer anymore.
It’s the last week of August when she brings it up to him.
“Steve?” she says as she hands him another copy of The Terminator tape for him to rewind; it’s nearly nine at night and Nancy hasn’t been by at all today. Robin’s stomach has been in knots watching Steve watch the windows for her all night.
He tilts his head and quirks an eyebrow at her as Robin breathes in deeply through her nose, her heart suddenly in her throat.
“Just,” she bites her lip, “what is going on with you and Nancy?”
Oh, perfect, real subtle.
All at once Steve’s face shutters.
“No, come on, don’t do that,” Robin wheedles, stepping in front of him, “Steve, just talk to me--”
“There’s nothing to talk about, just drop it Robin,” he bites out as he steps around her to grab the returns cart and wheel it over to the New Release shelf.
“No, nope,” she huffs, walking quickly to the other side of the cart and grab the handles, “this is against all the laws of best-friendom”.
“That's not a word,” he mumbles tiredly, reaching up to pinch his nose and close his eyes.
Ah shit.
“Dingus, Steve,” Robin says softly as she lets go of the handles and steps closer into his space, “talk to me?”
Steve hesitates, seeming to chew the words or the inside of his cheek - she can’t quite tell at this point, before he blinks once, twice, his eyes rapidly becoming shinier by the second.
Oh double shit.
He shakes his head and turns away from her sharply and Robin doesn’t know what to do with her hands as Steve takes a deep wobbly breath.
“It’s okay you know,” she finds herself saying softly as she takes a step closer, “to cry?”
Steve barks out a wet laugh and shakes his head again, still not looking at her.
“I don’t know what to do, like literally,” Robin whispers in a panicked voice, “can I, I mean, do you want a hug?”
He nods but doesn’t move as Robin steps even closer to wrap her arms loosely around his waist, he’s stiff in her embrace but slowly begins to relax the longer they stand there - as though he’s not used to something like this.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, but I am here if you want to talk, or if you even just want to vent - man I want to vent,” Robin says, pulling back slightly to look Steve in the eyes, “don’t take this the wrong way, but what the hell is Nancy doing?”
Steve stills in her arms but she keeps going, “honestly, aren’t she and Jonathan still dating?”
“Like I get that he’s all the way in California but why is she coming in here, and don’t tell me it's about the movies --she never asks me to help find anything, just you, and half the time she doesn't even end up renting anything?”
Robin stops as Steve’s breath hitches once, “it's not fair to you,” she finishes lamely, her voice petering out as Steve nods and sighs, finally bringing his own arms around Robin’s shoulders to draw her closer and bury his face in her hair.
“Thank you,” he whispers in her ear as he squeezes her tight enough to leave her nearly breathless.
“You’re the only person I can actually talk to that won’t think less of me about, about everything,” he whispers into her hair, Robin’s hands twitch as she fists his work vest between her fingers.
“I think, you are the single best thing to have happened to me in the last like, two years Robs,” the words are constricted, as though he has to drag them out, “and…I need to tell you something”.
Robin nods as he pulls away this time to look at her, his red rimmed eyes trace over her face, just like they had at Scoops all those months ago.
“I,” he swallows and drops his gaze to the floor, “I don’t…feel that way about Nancy anymore,” Steve says quietly.
“But you seem so upset whenever she leaves, you were looking for her today?” Robin says, confusion painting her words.
Steve sighs and tips his head back this time, looking at the ceiling as though the answer is hidden among the ceiling tiles and water stains.
“It's complicated, I…” his mouth opens and closes for a beat, “I am sad for her that Jonathan is gone - he was a better fit for Nancy, way better than me,” he mutters and looks at Robin once more.
“And I know what she's doing, coming in here all the time, she’s lonely, but that's not why I’m upset Birdy”.
Robin frowns, “then what--”
“There’s this guy,” Steve blurts out, speaking over her in a rush.
Robin feels herself stop breathing, what?
His chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as he continues, “I-I’ve never told anyone this before”.
“Okay, okay,” Robin whispers, rubbing soothing circles into his back as he moves even closer and drops his head to her shoulder.
“I don’t know what to do,” he murmurs into her vest and hair, his breath warm and wet as his chest stutters and heaves.
“It’s okay,” she says again, repeating the words she’s told herself the last three years, “you’re okay”.
“Loving Nancy is easy, but I…” he sniffs and breathes out, Robin feels a gathering wetness on her shoulder but it only makes her hug him harder.
“But you don’t,” she says softly, finishing his sentence for him.
Steve nods and lets out another shaky breath, finally lifting his face from her shoulder.
He’s a mess, face red and blotchy, tear tracks and snot shine in the streetlights from outside the video store window. Steve’s eyes are red and puffy and his mouth has stretched into an uncharacteristic frown that makes Robin’s chest ache.
Now Robin’s mother may have been an expert on making people feel better no matter the occasion, but Robin was an expert on putting her foot in her mouth and making Steve laugh.
And the latter felt much more appropriate at this moment.
“I mean, you’ve come to the right person at any rate,” she says sagely, reaching up to wipe a loose tear from his nose, he snorts and bats her hand away.
“I’m serious, if anyone is an expert in gay pining, it’s me, I’ve seen it all, if you want pointers in watching from afar and daydreaming about your illegal wedding, I’m your lady”.
Steve laughs and steps back to wipe his face roughly with both hands, it does nothing to sooth the puffy skin beneath his eyes but at least the last trace of tears are gone.
“I’m also an expert,” she chews her lip for a moment, considering carefully how to put it into words, “on how all of this feels, and how new and scary it can be,” she says softly, “trust me, I’ve been there”.
Steve nods, his eyes shining all over again as he tugs Robin closer into another bone crushing hug.
Just in time for the bell above the door to chime.
Well shit.
They step away from one another, glad for the distance from the front door to the counter, knowing exactly how that might have looked to the average customer so late into the evening.
“Hey man,” Robin calls out as Steve turns away from the door to hide his face, “just letting you know we close in five so…”
The man nods, he looks familiar, Robin’s fairly certain she’s seen him at school but she can’t remember the name.
His wild curly hair and jean vest decked out in patches and pins scream, ‘Metal-Head’, as does the ever present cloud of tobacco and weed smell that follows him and around the shelves. He makes a beeline for the small horror section at the back and grabs a tape before making his way to the counter.
“No worries Buckley, knew exactly what I wanted, I won’t hold you and Harrington up --hey man,” he says brightly, two dimples bloom as he smiles in Steve's direction who flinches at being addressed.
Steve slowly turns and tries for a smile, “hey Eddie,” he mumbles.
Eddie’s smile drops as his eyes trace over Steve’s face, “woah, what happened sweet-uh,” he looks at Robin once before moving back to Steve, “dude, uh, sweet dude?”
Oh no fucking way.
Steve clears his throat, his cheeks slowly getting pinker the longer Eddie and Robin stare at him, “nothing, I promise, um are you still okay to take Dustin to Indy tomorrow to the hobby shop?”
Eddie nods and smiles, though there’s still a hint of worry in his eyes as he slides the tape over the counter, “wouldn’t miss it, gotta get that kid ready for Hellfire initiation after all,” he says with a wink.
“I figured if you didn’t have anything after we could watch this at mine,” Eddie continues nervously this time, gesturing to the tape Steve scans through.
For the third time since she’s known Steve, Robin feels as though she’s witnessing something she shouldn’t, only this time it doesn’t fill her with anxiety or uncertainty, and she’s never felt more invisible.
“I’d like that,” Steve says softly as Eddie beams at him, wrapping his knuckles against the counter as he hands Steve three one dollar bills.
“Sounds like a plan my liege,” Eddie hums as he bows with a flourish, coaxing a laugh out of Steve who is smiling like a loon beside Robin, “you bring the popcorn, I’ll take care of everything else,” he calls over his shoulder as he walks backwards towards the entrance before tipping an imaginary hat in farewell as he disappears out the door.
“That is not pining!” Robin shrieks as she whirls around on Steve the moment they see Eddie get into his van, “that was full blown flirting, how long has this been going on??”
“I’m sorry--”
“Nuh uh, you’ve been getting kissy with him, and you didn’t tell me? You got to have your first kiss before me??”
“We haven’t kissed Robin, christ we haven’t done anything--”
“Life is so fucking unfair, you had to be a ‘ladies’ and a ‘man’s’ man, huh?” She scoffs as she walks to the front of the store and switches off the sign and bolts the door for good measure.
Robin turns around only to find Steve staring at her, a nervous expression warps his normally handsome face.
Dammit.
She rolls her eyes and sighs, “I am still so proud of you for telling me, but you have to admit this is unjust,” she mutters in what she hopes is a reassuring voice.
“You think he likes me then?” Steve wonders aloud as he looks from Robin to the door that Eddie left through with a small smile.
Robin drops her face into her hands, this is the man she’s chosen for her platonic soul-mate?
“You are literally going on a date tomorrow,” she grumbles irritatedly, “I watched him ask you out, not even ten seconds ago Steve”.
The smile he sends her way is blinding, and once again Robin is reminded just how much she loves this doofus, how she never would have imagined herself here as a freshman with a trumpet.
“You are calling me after,” she demands as Steve pops the till to begin cashing out while Robin hops up to sit on the counter and fill out the paperwork, “if I can’t teach you about pining then you damn well owe me a class about dating”.
Steve laughs brightly as he lays down the bills and change, giving Robin a soft grin which she returns, finally feeling as though she knows Steve Harrington much better than most.
Steve Harrington has been working the typical 9-5 corporate American office job since he graduated college. The job was handed to him by his father but it wasn't a high-level job that everyone expected his father to give him. Instead, his father placed him in the customer service call center division and was told that he would be promoted when Steve could prove that he deserved the position.
It sucked but Steve Harrington knew that his father wouldn't just hand it to him. So he worked his way up the stat list and proved to be sufficient at the job. He was promoted to assistant manager in his first year but after that, he was passed over for multiple promotions. He knew it was his father still thinking he wasn't worthy, even if he was the top employee in the department. It didn't matter that Steve had proven himself worthy and reliable. His father had a personal vendetta against Steve that he failed to give details on.
Assistant managers weren't even in a decent position. It was only a 50-cent raise and he was hated by everyone. The managers looked down on him, the customers were always yelling at him, and the associates don't stay long enough to build a strong relationship with Steve.
He's fed up with this lifestyle.
Then he remembers something. Steve's maternal grandfather had sent a lawyer to deliver Steve a letter. He was in his junior year of college and most of his memories around that time were the stress he endured since it was finals season. Steve pours over his grandfather's letter and makes the decision to leave the city.
It's a long journey, both literally and figurately, to leave behind the high-end city life to move to a small town farm. Hawkins is a small town that his grandfather had taken a liking to once his mother had left for college. Steve remembers spending a couple of summers in Hawkins but it was only for a week at most and he rarely left the farm. The bus stops with a loud hiss that the driver mimics. They both leave the bus and the driver is immediately opening the hood, cursing under his breath.
Steve would offer help, but he's tired, it's late at night, and he still has to walk to the cottage. He remembers the bus stop and where the farm was from the bus stop.
As he walks to the farm, he's unaccustomed to the lack of noise. It's not quiet, with bugs singing in the background and owls cooing in the shadows, but it's different.
The wave of nostalgia that hits Steve when he stands in front of the cottage almost knocks him to his feet. His heart aches because he knows that his grandfather isn't behind the door. He never will be. Eventually, he makes his way inside and falls asleep on the old cot.
The first day is the hardest.
When Steve wakes up, he realizes that the cottage is actually a lot cleaner than he anticipated. It's not pristine, with a small layer of dust covering the floor, but it's not abandoned. It's a small place, with a small bathroom to the side and everything in the main room. The bed is in the corner and across from it is the fireplace that his grandfather would use to make meals. The other corner had an old box tv and there was a table next to it.
There's a note on the table addressed to Steve. An old friend of his grandfather heard that he would be coming to town and decided to clean up a bit. He wrote that there would be two packages to help him get started and also told Steve where he can find the tools that his grandfather left behind. Steve makes his way to the packages that he found tucked next to the door. Inside the first one, a smaller box holds parsnip seeds. The second, larger box holds few canned goods but Steve appreciates the effort that a stranger took, even if it's because he knew Steve's grandfather.
Steve was cut off when he made the decision to leave for Hawkins. His father had taken back the car and his trust fund, leaving Steve with only $500 to his name. Not having to buy food will definitely help out while he gets settled, even if it's only for a few days.
Mood low, Steve walks out the door to see the farm in broad daylight. What he sees does not brighten his mood. The property has deteriorated. There are trees and rocks everywhere. Weeds and long patches of grass cover the soil. The greenhouse that he used to tend to when he would visit has been destroyed. The coop that he would feed the chickens in is nowhere in sight.
Steve is hit with frustration and sorrow. He's frustrated at himself. He wasn't around to help his grandfather when his health started to decline. He didn't visit the farm enough and missed out on lessons to maintain the property. Overall, Steve feels guilty. Guilty that his grandfather's legacy turned into a dump. Guilty that he wasn't there when his grandfather passed. Now, he's starting from square one with no instructions and worn hand-me-down tools.
He's not going to give up though.
Rolling his shoulders, he picks up the tools that he needs and starts to tackle the mess in front of him. He takes out his frustration, guilt, and anger on the weeds in front of him.
It's a long day but at least he can see some of the soil.
The week doesn't necessarily get better but it doesn't get worse. Steve didn't realize how small Hawkins is until he starts to explore. He's met the local fisherman, who was kind enough to gift Steve an old fishing rod, allowing Steve to spend time learning how to fish. As he explores the town, the locals all stare him down and whisper to each other. It's not malicious but Steve still feels self-conscious about the stares. Some of the residents will approach him and make small talk while others are downright rude to him. Steve knows that everyone in the town doesn't like him and that he's an outsider, even if they don't say it.
He's feeling lonelier than ever but he's relieved that he's not under his father's thumb.
Eventually, Steve gets the hang of things and the town warms up to him. Things get more interesting when he meets Eddie Munson, who lives in a small cabin in the mountains with his uncle. After meeting Eddie, Steve stops questioning his decision to move to Hawkins.
