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@steddieangstyaugust day 16: Halloween
Steve is a little drunk. Scratch that, he's a lot drunk. And those indoor sunglasses aren't helping whatsoever. So yeah, maybe Steve accidentally made out with Eddie freaking Munson thinking it was Nancy, but it wasn't his fault. The fact that it took him a good five minutes to even notice...well, let's save that crisis for another time.
“Must’ve Been Some Dragon”
M | wc 815 | CW: implied child abuse
@steddieangstyaugust Day 15: Childhood
“Must’ve been some dragon.”
Steve looked up across Eddie’s hospital bed at Wayne Munson. They have been sitting by Eddie’s bedside for almost 10 hours, and this was the first words Wayne has spoken.
“I’m sorry?” Steve asked, readjusting in his seat to look more towards Wayne. Wayne gestured at Eddie’s bandaged body. He was worse for wear. Lost a lot of blood. Steve spent way too long doing chest compressions before they could get his heart beating again. Steve still had Eddie’s dried blood on his fingernails.
“Must have been some dragon,” Wayne repeated. “He — uh — used to come over, scraped or bruised. Said it was a dragon. A dragon gave him those bruises or a dragon scraped his knee.” Wayne’s hand hovered over Eddie’s bandaged arm, wanting to touch him, but not wanting to cause any further harm. “Ego,” He settled his touch on Eddie’s bare hand. “Some dragon.”
Steve let out a soft laugh. “Yeah. It was some dragon.” Steve couldn’t help but turn his attention back to Eddie, peacefully still. “He was brave against the it. The dragon.”
“He always is,” Wayne said, his thumb running across the back of Eddie’s hand.
🐉 ⚔️
Steve was jolted awake. The body next to him — his boyfriend — jerked up, jostling Steve off his chest. Eddie inhaled sharply, burying his face into his hands, body shaking.
“Hey, hey,” Steve whispered, sitting up, his hand rubbing gentle circles on Eddie’s back. “Hey, you’re safe. We’re okay.”
Eddie jostled his head, nodding of some sorts. His head still buried in his hands, his breath still uneven. Steve leaned into Eddie, his head against his shoulder.
“We’re okay,” Steve said.
“W-we’re okay,” Eddie repeated, his breath still shaky.
Steve rubbed circles into Eddie’s back, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s bare shoulder. “Was it the bats?”
Eddie shook his head. “It was — uh — a dragon,” Eddie admitted. He leaned against Steve’s touch, closing his eyes and let out a soft sigh. “I haven’t — I haven’t had that nightmare since I was a kid.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Eddie shook his head, turning to bury himself in Steve’s arms. Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie, holding him securely. “It’s fine. It’s in the past. Don’t need to worry about it anymore.”
“The dragon?” Steve asked softly.
Eddie nodded.
“I’ll protect you,” Steve promised. “No matter the size of dragon, I’ll protect you from it.”
Eddie leaned back to look at Steve. “Any dragon?”
“Any dragon that dares to step in the Munson Kingdom,” Steve said. “I’ll fight for your honor.”
Eddie let out a wet laugh, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before leaning back into him. “My knight in shining armor.”
Steve pressed a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head, holding him tightly as they both fell back asleep, free from dragons.
🐉 ⚔️
Steve was in the middle of getting ready for his shift at Family Video when there was pounding at the door. Steve sighed, running his hand through his hair.
“Eddie, I swear to god,” he half shouted. Not sure if Eddie could even hear him. He made his way through the Munson’s new trailer — a 2-bedroom that Steve practically moved into, sharing Eddie’s space. “If you forgot your key again —“
Steve opened the front door. A man, slightly taller than him. Bigger too, but not bigger than Hopper. Dark hair, familiar brown eyes, and a soft grin that felt … wrong.
Steve instantly knew who this was.
“I’m looking for Wayne or Eddie,” Ricky Munson said, Steve assumed as politely as he could. Which wasn’t much.
“Wrong house,” Steve said, pushing the door shut. Ricky’s hand shot out, stopping the door. He pushed it open, keeping his arm stretched out.
“I think I’m at the right house,” Ricky said slowly. “You seen my son or brother lately?”
Steve’s eyes dropped to the arm in front of him, holding the door open. To the ink on Ricky’s forearm. A dragon tattoo on his right arm.
And suddenly, everything made sense.
Little Eddie coming to Wayne, bruised and battered by a dragon.
Eddie having nightmares about a dragon hurting him.
And Steve, who promised Eddie that he would protect him from dragons. Of any kind.
Steve reached beside the door, feeling the handle of his nail bat fit perfectly in the palm of his hand.
“Heard a lot about you, Ricky,” Steve said, stepping back, pulling the nail bat behind him. “They’ll be home shortly if you want to come in.”
Ricky gave a sly grin, one that looked innocent at face value but felt slimy. Ricky took the first step into the Munson’s trailer. Steve tightened his grip on his nail bat.
Any dragon, he told Eddie.
Any dragon that dares to step into the Munson kingdom.
Especially the dragon that haunted his childhood.
@steddieangstyaugust Day 27: "I thought we agreed it was over."
Eddie saw Steve's beemer pull up outside the trailer before he heard the knock at the door. The words were already leaving his lips as he opened it, "I thought we agreed it was over."
It had hurt, the break up, but Eddie had been expecting it. He knew Steve would never be his forever no matter how much he wanted him to be. It was all too easy for him to push back the tears and agreed when Steve said things like it was for the best and that they'd never work.
He had tried not to think about all the times Steve had said how much he loved how they were different, that it meant they got to share things with the other person. How Steve whispered love confessions when he thought Eddie was asleep weeks before he was brave enough to voice them in the daylight.
It was over, and that was that, so why was Steve here?
The sentence fizzled out though when he took in Steve's features. A quickly blackening swollen eye, a split lip, knuckles bruised and bleeding. Steve was trying to hold his side while also tightly gripping the backpack on his other shoulder.
"I'm sorry."
Eddie hadn't heard from Steve in months besides the occasional update from the kids or a glance at him from hellfire pick ups. The sound of those words made him realise how much he had missed Steve's voice despite how broken it now sounded.
All the hurt he'd felt melted away, stored for a later time when Steve wasn't swaying so much, when his face wasn't so pale. Eddie gently guided him inside, taking the backpack and placing it on the couch before leading Steve to the bathroom.
He methodically cleaned up his cuts and checked his ribs and tried not to think about the fact that the doctor said Steve shouldn't risk another concussion. He got Steve a change of clothes and sat him upright on the bed.
"Can't sleep yet, sweetheart, got to make sure your heads ok for awhile, alright?"
Steve's eyes became misty again, "Didn't think I'd ever hear you call me that again, Eds. I'm so sorry."
Eddie took Steve's less injured hand in his, gently stroking the back of it, "What happened, Steve?"
The question didn't help the tears that now seemed to flow freely down Steve's cheeks, "I thought if I broke up with you I could keep you safe, keep the both of us safe."
Eddie's grip tightened slightly, "Stevie."
"I was stupid I should've given the box of stuff from you to Robin or someone but I wanted to keep a piece of you close, and he, he found a picture of the two of us, the one Jonathan took at your birthday party."
Eddie knew the picture, it was his favourite, he still kept it tacked to his wall, didn't have the heart to take it down and put it with every other part of Steve that now sat in a box under his bed. Jonathan had caught the exact moment Steve kissed him while he cut his cake, they looked so happy, they were happy.
Eddie could infer the rest, "Your dad did this then?"
Steve nodded, "Kicked me out too, I'm sorry I would've gone to Dustin's but he's at his grandparents and Robin is at college and I just." Eddie pulls Steve closer, "I'm glad you came here, baby, you're safe here." Steve seems to finally relax at those words, like he'd been holding his breath since the day they'd parted.
"I didn't mean anything I said, Eddie," Steve cried.
Eddie gave Steve a sad smile. "I know, let's talk about all that later, just rest now I'll wake you up in a little bit to check your head again," Eddie said pushing Steve softly down onto the bed. They had a lot to discuss, a lot of hearts to mend but for now Eddie just needed Steve to be ok.
"Will you stay?"
"As long as you need me."
@steddieangstyaugust 04/08 // angst with a happy ending
wc: 2.3k // rating: G // cw: language // tags: post-s4, eddie lives, eddie in WITSEC, mutual pining, phone calls
divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics
“So, where are you now?”
Steve knew he wasn’t going to get a real answer to this question—given that Eddie wasn’t allowed to say—but it was basically tradition at this point to ask.
Eddie chuckled through the receiver. “Hmm… it’s windy. And cold as balls. Will probably start snowing soon.”
Steve raised his brows. “Snow? This early?”
Dustin, from Steve’s kitchen island, mirrored his look of interested surprise, and immediately started looking over the map laid out on the countertop. It was dotted with little red and yellow stickers and various scribblings.
“Yep,” Eddie responded, popping the P. “Pretty shit going out for a smoke, but lots of trees around, so the view is decent at least.”
“Lots of trees,” Steve repeats, with a pointed glance at Dustin, who hurriedly starts marking different spots on the map.
“How’s Henderson’s map going?” Eddie asked, knowing by the tone what they were doing.
“It’s… going?” Steve responded with a shrug. “He thinks he’s worked out the movement system.”
“I have worked out the movement system, thank you very much,” Dustin snarked, not looking up at Steve. “We can track their movement from the West Coast back up North, hence the snow.”
Eddie laughs again. “Kid’s too smart for his own good.”
“You’re telling me,” Steve grumbles, moving away from the kitchen, as far as the cord allowed him to. He drops his voice low. “How you holding up?”
“I dunno,” Eddie sighs. “Same shit, different place… Same shitty government officials with the same shitty requirements.”
keep your pretty face out of trouble
written for @steddieangstyaugust day 20
prompt: "I didn't know where else to go." | rated: T | wc: 2.596 | cw: mentions of blood, injuries, homophobia | tags: Steve Harrington is a mess, and so is his face, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Friends to Lovers | also on ao3
Eddie didn’t really know what to expect when he entered the Henderson’s home. Dustin had been quite vague on the phone, didn’t say much at all to be honest, nothing of substance at least. Nothing that could’ve prepared Eddie for what he finds when he steps into the living room where, next to his little pal, he finds none other than Steve Harrington sitting on the couch.
And as if that isn’t confusing enough, what’s really concerning is the way he looks.
His face is fucked. Beaten, bruised, mush. There is blood on his lower lip and dripping out from his nose into a tissue that’s already soaked.
Dustin is sitting by his side, holding what seems to be a bag of frozen peas against the older boy’s neck.
“Dustin, what the fu-“
He doesn’t get to finish his question because Steve suddenly looks up, eyes wide in shock like he’s just now becoming aware of Eddie’s presence, before turning to Dustin with an expression that isn’t at all hard to read.
What’s he doing here?
Dustin lets go of the frozen goods in order to hold both hands up defensively.
“Hey, don’t look at me like that! I didn’t know what to do, so I called Eddie.”
“You shouldn’t have done that. I’m fine.”
“You are very clearly not fine, Steve!”
They’re doing this weird but kinda adorable staring competition they often do when they’re arguing and it would be amusing to watch if it weren’t for whatever the fuck is going on with Steve’s face.
Dustin doesn’t waver, holds Steve’s disapproving gaze seemingly unimpressed but Eddie could hear the tremble in his voice, knows Dustin is only barely keeping it together.
Always trying to keep up a brave face, Dustin is, but Eddie knows his vulnerable side, too. Maybe that’s why Dustin called him instead of Wheeler or any of the other Gremlins when Steve- what? Appeared on his doorstep all beat-up? Or where they out together when it happened? Is Dustin hurt, too?
Eddie shakes himself out of his thoughts, lets his eyes wander between the two, both hands on his hips like he’s seen Steve do whenever he’s trying to make a point.
“Alright, enough! Can someone please tell me what happened?” Eddie asks as he steps closer, watching Steve’s shoulders tense immediately.
Written for @steddieangstyaugust, day 10 - "Where were you?"
Steve's breath is catching in his chest. He can't get enough oxygen. His whole body is screaming at him to stop, to give himself a break, but he can't.
Not until he sees Eddie.
He barges in the hospital room and half-collapses against the metal frame of the bed. He thinks there's someone else with him, possibly Dustin and Wayne, but he can't be sure. His head is pounding, and the rhytm it follows is Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.
The call was short, but it rang all the alarm bells in Steve's head. He ran to the hospital all the way, his sides are burning, but it's fine. It's his body's job to get him to Eddie, and it did that. But now that he's here, he can't focus, he can't make his eyes see what's in front of him. Failure. What a failure.
"Steve. Hey, Steve. Come on, sit down and breathe."
He knows those hands. It's Wayne, his rough palms leading Steve so gently to the chair. No wonder Eddie is so caring, so full of love for others. He takes after him, his real father. No matter what his birth certificate says.
Steve's breathing finally slows down, the blurriness in his vision finally clears. He blinks away the tears - when did he cry? - and finally looks at the bed.
He looks so pale under all the bandages, the bruises and cuts. They couldn't even get all the blood from his hair, they just soaked it in water and hoped it would stay clear of the nasty wound on his forehead. It might need stitches. Does it have stitches?
But most of all, he looks so small. Eddie is always larger than life, he takes all the space he can, because he's been denied it for so long. He spreads his arms, gestures wildly, laughs as loud as he can. He's always challenging the world. "I'm here," he says, "and I'm taking everything I deserve and then some. I'm here to stay, so you'd better get used to it."
The frail body in the hospital bed doesn't look like him. It has the right hair, the small scar on his thumb from when he cut himself trying to open a beer bottle with a small pocket knife, but it doesn't have what makes Eddie himself.
"What…what happened?" he finally rasps out and turns to Wayne. He looks so old, so tired.
"Some punks followed Eddie home from the bar," he says slowly. "They…heard the rumors. Decided they'd make him pay for serving them unclean queer drinks or some bullshit like that." He keeps his voice admirably calm, but Steve sees the white of his knuckles, the stern lines around his mouth. "Someone disturbed them, but…not soon enough. They ran and Eddie…"
Eddie stayed in that alley for over two hours before someone called for help.
He falls silent, and Steve understands. There is nothing more to say.
Only then does Dustin speak up. He refuses to even look at Steve, he is just grasping the bedframe, clenching his fingers over the peeling white paint. "He was right under your window. He was almost home. You would have heard him, if you were home."
He finally turns around and Steve recognizes that look. It's the same blend of pain and accusation from 1986, when Steve lived and Eddie almost didn't. And he asks the question that stabs Steve right in his racing heart.
"Where were you?"
Steve wants to answer truthfully, he wants to reject the accusation, defend himself, but he can't. Because he would have normally been home. He would have accompanied Eddie from his shift, but not this morning. He was busy this morning, he told Eddie. Robin needed something or the other, and they'd see each other soon anyway, maybe early lunch? The last two things that Steve gave Eddie? A rushed kiss and a lie.
Because Robin didn't need anything. It was him who needed her, it was him who dragged her through a bunch of shops, asking for advice, planning a glorious future while Eddie was unconscious in that alley.
Steve just shakes his head and takes Eddie's hand in his, holding it like the most fragile treasure of all. Once again, like in 1986, he prays, offers the distant god a chance to make things right for once.
And if- no! When! When Eddie gets better, when he wakes up, only then will Steve worry if Eddie likes the engagement ring he bought him this morning.
Working It Out
Rating: General CW: Implied/Referenced Depression Tags: Post-Canon, Future Fic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Teacher Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Sad Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Hinted Breakup Conversation, But They Work It Out, Difficult Conversations, Talking Through Feelings, Soft Eddie Munson, Discussion of Future For @steddieangstyaugust Day 31 Prompt: "I'm not going to beg you to love me."
🎸——————🎸 Steve is happy for Eddie. Really, he is. Has the whole rockstar thing figured out. On the cover of Rolling Stone, booking late night slots on television, getting recognized in public spaces, and selling out stadiums. It’s the life he’s always dreamed of. It’s what he’s wanted since he was little.
So why can’t he be happy, too?
@steddieangstyaugust Day 7: Moonlight
wc: 792 | Rated: M | cw: Smoking
Tags: Steve Harrington Angst, Post-Coital, Aftercare (Kinda, it's more about Steve wanting aftercare), The Beemer, Hooking Up, Undefined Relationship, Angst With a Happy Ending
'Like Clockwork'
Steve shimmies to a seated position but doesn’t bother hitching his jeans up. The Beemer’s windows are all clammy and misted now, despite the clear and warm summer’s night.
He swipes a sweaty palm over the window to reveal a brilliant moonlit night cast out over the abandoned cornfield he parked in. Steve looks up at the moon, resting his head against the cool glass, turning just enough so that his flushed cheek can get some relief.
He still feels hot all over, his body still tingling with after sensations. It’s a feeling Steve has relished each and every Thursday night this summer. Sitting here, all sated and a little sleepy, his own spend drying tacky on his tummy as his partner wriggles about beside him.
No – not his ‘partner’.
Not his boyfriend, either.
Friend? Fuck buddy?
Whatever Eddie is, he is indeed, squirming about like he always does afterwards. More accurately, he is ass up as he searches in the front cab for wherever his jacket and smokes got to.
Like clockwork, he’ll offer Steve one when he finds them. And, as always, Steve will decline with a burning sensation in his throat that runs the length of the fading scar on his neck.
They’ll get dressed with great efficiency, handing each other misplaced clothes, slipping on shoes and tossing anything else aside before they get back into the front of the car. Steve will drive back into Hawkins township as Eddie fiddles with the radio dial and offers commentary about every station.
Then, he will drop Eddie home and watch him skip inside, where the guy surely offers up some excuse to his uncle as to his whereabouts.
Steve will then head home and slip in through the back door to avoid his parents. He’ll fall asleep half-undressed and wake to the sounds of his alarm clock radio with thoughts of next Thursday night. Like clockwork – like he is Marty McFly, or something.
And that’s the problem, Steve thinks as he looks up at the moon.
“A-ha!” Eddie exclaims, plopping back into position next to him and shaking the whole back seat.
He sits close enough that their bare, sweat-sheened arms touch flush together. It makes Steve tingle in a way that is the complete opposite of what happened mere minutes ago. He tears his eyes away from the bright moonlight to find Eddie reaching out, like clockwork.
Steve frowns.
“No,” he says, unable to help the way it comes out, all strained and small.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
The thing is, Steve liked it in the beginning. Maybe even loved it. And it’s not like he hadn’t done this kind of thing. He had parked out in this very field in his precious cars plenty of times. Sometimes because his parents were home. Others because every makeout spot in town was occupied.
At one point, it was part of King Steve’s famed repertoire.
And he still likes most of it. The sex. The feeling of Eddie all over him – in him. Filling him up and touching him and giving him everything until it all spills over.
Eddie tosses over his maroon polo (the move that always comes after the offer of a smoke) and Steve balls it up in his fist.
“I want to… Cuddle and... be warm.”
He hates that his voice breaks at the end of it and he hugs in on himself, twisting his shirt up with him.
And Eddie moves closer still and reaches to manoeuvre Steve’s jeans all the way up.
“We’ll go back to my house, Big Boy,” he says as a small, cheeky smile tugs at the corners of his lips when he gets to tucking Steve back into his underwear, “I’m gonna wrap you up all tight and cozy in my bed, even if I have to sneak you in through the window.”
Steve has no idea where Eddie’s pack of cigarettes got to after that. He simply tossed them aside, insisting that he drive them both back to the trailer.
They sneak inside, past Wayne who is asleep in his armchair as an episode of Dragnet plays on the television. Eddie supplies Steve with some makeshift pyjamas – loose sweatpants (black, of course) and a band T-shirt.
Steve doesn’t know the band, but he likes it anyway. Just like the way he feels as Eddie curls in close behind him, holding him tight as he positions the two of them on his cramped single bed.
He thinks he might love Eddie as the guy leans forward and presses a kiss to his cheek.
No, he does love Eddie, Steve knows as he shuts his eyes, their two intertwined bodies illuminated by the moonlight peaking in through the blinds.
