you guys are feral for silly wereshifter Steve AU and I love that | 3 >>
Some meatheads are calling Eddie names again. The dog that's been tailing him appears out of nowhere and makes eye contact with him as it struts over to the group and lifts his leg, pissing all over the fresh wax on their BMW with the determination and focus of a dog that hasn't been outside for the whole day.
"Hey, get your fucking dog off my car!" One of the guys jumps up, but the warning show of canines stops him from shooing the dog away himself.
Eddie shrugs, though he's restraining a smile.
"It's not mine."
Later the dog finds him again as it always does, and he makes amends.
"You are my dog though, right? My good doggie. Who's my good boy?" he asks, scratching the overjoyed dog all over its furry body.
At home, Steve asks Robin to call him a good boy when he shifts, to see if it feels as good. It doesn't. Well, it does, but not in the same way.
It comes to the point when dog Steve spends more time with Eddie than human Steve. To soak in the happiness and love Eddie shows him.
"Is Steve okay?" Eddie asks one day, petting the dog beside him while they take a break from band practice. The rest of Hellfire is hanging out in the garage, with Mike jumping on every opportunity to learn guitar from Jeff and the rest usually following.
"Yeah?" Dustin cocks his head. "Why wouldn't he be?"
"I don't know." Eddie shrugs. "Haven't seen him in a while and you're never mentioning him anymore."
Dustin looks at the dog.
"He's fine. You're overthinking it."
Eddie thinks that might be it, but...
"I know we're not friends-friends but I don't even see him in passing! Hell, Buckley is there to hang out, and he's not!"
Dustin throws his hands up in the air, annoyed with the questions.
"Don't ask me, man! Ask him yourself! And, to be honest," he crosses his arms, glaring at the dog, for some reason. "I don't understand what's going on with him either."
Eddie frowns, looks at the dog that huffs loudly, and looks away with a grunt. He pats its fluffy fur.
"How am I supposed to ask him if he's never here?" he sighs. "I don't want to just corner him at his place."
Dusting looks at him like he failed elementary two times, not high school.
"There's this thing called phones?"
"Oh. Right."
"Jesus it's like you'd die without me."
"Well..."
"Not what I meant!" Dustin goes pale instantly, mortified by his own words.
"I know, kid." Eddie pulls his head down in reassurance and leans into a side hug. "Don't worry."
"He's not picking up," he tells the dog while biting at a hangnail. "Maybe he's at work?" He wonders out loud and goes to the magazine pile on the coffee table. The dog struts behind him. He rummages through the papers under its watchful eye until he finds the Family Video pamphlet. He runs back to the phone with it and dials the number on the back.
"Hi, I'm looking for Steve? Oh, hi Buckley. Do you know if he's home? Okay. Can you tell him to call me when he's free? No, I just wanted to ask him something. Thanks. Bye."
When he hangs up, he's alone in the room.
"Buddy?"
There's a bark from the front of the trailer.
"Sure, sorry!"
He runs up to open the door for the dog already waiting there. But before it leaves, it nuzzles up into his hand, the wet nose and hesitance to leave reassuring Eddie that he'll be back sooner or later. He smiles at the dog, giving him one last scratch between the ears.
"Such a good boy. See you later, buddy."
Steve calls him not even an hour later.
"Eddie?" He sounds out of breath.
"Steve, hi!" He's relieved to hear him and suddenly realizes he doesn't remember the last time they actually talked. "Has Buckley talked to you already?"
"No?"
"Dustin then?"
"No- ah, yeah! He's mentioned you wanted to talk."
He's a bit disappointed Steve hasn't thought to reach out himself but it's better than nothing.
"Yeah, I Haven't seen you in a while, man. What have you been up to?"
"Uh, you know, just... This and that. Doing a lot of... Running. Exercises. You know."
Eddie doesn't know, but he's willing to nod along to keep the conversation going.
"Yeah, totally, you've been busy. Do you want to hang out maybe? Movie night, or, or..." He tries to come up with anything they could do together. "I got a new strain of weed we could test?" He offers.
Steve laughs at that, genuine and relaxed and Eddie relaxes at the sound himself.
"Sure, why not? Is tonight alright? I have a day off anyway."
Eddie's not prepared mentally and neither is his room but he agrees immediately.
"Sure, come over anytime."
"Okay I'll take a shower and I'm off."
When they meet up, everything seems normal. For about fifteen minutes.
Steve jumps whenever Eddie touches him, and his face is red, making Eddie look at him worriedly and ask if he's alright.
But all Steve can think about is “good boy” and belly scratches. When his leg twitches when Eddie touches his shoulder, he jumps off the couch, mortified by his body's reactions.
"Do you have a dog?!" he almost yells, looking around in panic.
Eddie blinks at him.
"Uh, no?" But then he frowns. "I mean, there is a dog," he corrects, and his brows crease in worry. "Wait, are you allergic?"
"Yes!" Steve points his finger at him. "I gotta go, man, sorry, I'm itching all over," he spits out fast, walking backward toward the exit and almost running into a wall. "But it was great seeing you, uh, bye!"
The doors slam shut and Eddie's left alone and confused, the reality show host still yelling from the screen.
for @stmonstercalendar werewolf day + pink | A wereshifter AU time-skip extra
T | 638 | Steddie | Wereshifter Steve, Established relationship, collar | Ao3
"You want this one?" Eddie points, smiling teasingly, but Steve isn't even looking at him. Hell, he isn't even facing him at all, his ass pointedly turned his way and bush tail laying on his foot.
Eddie raises his eyebrow. Guess being kicked out of the farmer's market for not wearing a leash really bruised the we—Lykan's ego.
"Guess I'll just pick for you, then."
He quickly makes up his mind if he wants the collar and leash to match (hell no) and walks to the register. Based on the sound of claws clacking behind him, Steve is following, despite his reluctance.
"We have a matching set of this, If you'd—"
Eddie stops the clerk with a raise of his hand.
"No, thank you, I like to mix and match my colors," he smiles pleasantly, making Steve huff in amusement. Eddie kicks him gently below the register.
"Well, I'm sure she'll love it" the clerk doesn't lose her stride, keeping her customer service smile in place.
"Steve's a guy," Eddie corrects her, fishing out the needed amount of money.
"Oh! We should have some blue collars in the back—"
"No need," Eddie interrupts her. "My little princess looks great in pink."
Once they're outside, and Eddie is putting a collar around his neck, Steve still isn't looking at him.
"Princess. Baby," he says, planting a kiss between his eyes. "You look so pretty. Think of it as just an accessory."
Steve sends him a death glare, but in the end, they make it to the farmer's market before closing. Eddie takes in himself putting away the groceries while Steve wallows in self-pity. And he must be really preoccupied with it because he jumps when Eddie opens the bedroom door.
"Oh."
"Get out. Get out!" Steve goes red immediately, trying to wrench the pink collar off his neck before he decides it's best to just slam the door shut.
Eddie almost loses his nose nose in the process, the door slamming closed inches from his face. It takes him a moment to collect himself
"Steve? Steve." He knocks on the door. "You're not doing anything wrong or weird, let me in."
It takes forever until Steve actually opens the door. He's pouting, his nose is down, and he's still waring the collar, though now haphazardly askew.
"Sorry," he mumbles, and Eddie frowns.
"About what?"
Steve lowers his head even more, like this way he could hide his collar from view.
"About wearing the collar. I know it's weird."
"So? We like weird, don't we?"
Finally, Steve looks up at him, the matter-of-fact tone relaxing the tension from his shoulders.
"But it's a dog collar," he points out in a small voice.
"Uh, no?" Eddie takes his hand and lead him to the bed so they can sit facing each other. He reaches out to fix the pink leather around his neck. "It's your collar," he corrects. "And you can wear it whenever you feel like it."
Steve doesn't look convinced, so he grabs his chin and gently shakes his face.
"Say it," he orders.
"...It's my collar."
"And?" Eddie raises his eyebrow.
"And I can wear it whenever I want." Steve finishes, rolling his eyes.
"Good boy!" Eddie pats his cheek patronizingly and then leans in to give him a peck on the lips. He likes to keep him guessing. "Tomorrow we'll pick up a name tag I ordered, so you'll never forget that."
"Oh." Apparently Steve was more annoyed at being turned back from the market than he thought, if he haven't noticed. "Thank you."
"Of course baby. Now come and get some food." He stands from the bed, gently grabbing his hands to pull him along.
"You mean, come and make some food?" Steve raises his eyebrows, following Eddie anyway.
"Eh, potayto-potahto." Eddie shrugs.
i hope u guys don't mind being tagged for an extra: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot
@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86 @ollyxar @estrellami-1
@stevesworldxx @ajeff855 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @thelittleclare @wheneverfeasible
@bumblebeecuttlefishes @blasvemous @phantomcat94 @n33dlew0rk @manliest-of-muppets
@ravenfrog @dreamercec @tartarusknight
@eyehartart @ellietheasexylibrarian @im-sam-fucking-winchester
The storm comes to a head late at night in the form of knocking at his front door. It's muffled, but the space is small enough for him to hear. Confused, he closes his book to have a peek at his porch. He doesn't see anyone, but the weird knocking continues, followed by scratching. That eases his worries immediately and he opens up the door without much thought. Sure enough, his dog friend is sitting on the porch.
"What are you doing here this late?" Eddie asks, looking around as if the owner could show up out of the darkness with pitchforks and accusations. He moves to the side. "Come in, I don't think Steve wants to see me anyway. Leave as much hair as you want." Eddie smiles dryly at the dog.
Without a word, well, obviously, it's a dog, but without even a look in his direction, the dog moves towards his bedroom.
"Came in for sleepy cuddles, huh?" Eddie chuckles to himself. He latches back the door and moves towards the kitchen to grab a snack for himself and the dog. He's putting an extra slice of ham on a plate when a voice startles him, coming in from the closed doors to his bedroom.
Unmistakably human. Unmistakably Steve's.
"Uh, Eddie? Can I borrow some pants?"
Eddie's brain reruns a whole passage on mimics from his monster manual. Then on faeries and demons and goes straight into thoughts of Demogorgons. His walkie is in the bedroom.
"Eddie?"
He does the next best thing and grabs the heaviest pan he can find.
"I can hear you man," Steve's voice comes with a sigh when he approaches the door. "I swear it's me and I'm sorry for scaring you, I'll explain everything in a minute." Eddie lowers the pan. "But I'd really like to be wearing pants while I do that."
The request is weird enough to settle his nerves and finally open the door. And sure enough, there is Steve Harrington, butt-naked save for the blanket he wrapped himself in.
"What the fuck?" Eddie risks speaking up, his grip on the panhandle tightening. He glances towards his window. It's closed and all the trinkets on the sill below remain untouched. "Where's my dog?" he asks next, eyes dropping to the floor.
"Come on, man." Steve's fingers twist in the fabric of the blanket, and his face is a picture of pure distress.
Eddie decides to show some mercy and, not taking his eyes off the intruder, inches his way to the dresser where he fishes out that one pair of hand-me-down sweats he's never fully grown into. They should be big enough to fit Harrington's ass. If that even was him.
He throws the pants at Steve, who fumbles to catch them while keeping the blanket covering him up. They stare at each other for a long while until Steve raises his eyebrows expectantly.
"You gonna turn around or...?"
Eddie shakes his head stubbornly. He crosses his arms for good measure, despite the pan making it awkward and uncomfortable.
"I'm only half convinced you're not a mimic. Or a Vecna hallucination. So no, I'm not turning my back on you," he scoffs.
Steve's eyes widen at the mention of their last demonic opponent. He seems to understand Eddie's reservations a little bit better.
"I swear I'm not," he says softer, looking guilty for scaring his friend even further than he already had. "I'm sorry for freaking you out," he continues, turning around himself. The blanket drops and Eddie never had another butt-ass naked man in his bedroom before. Golden boy Steve, too, among his band posters and trailer trash glory? A truly poetic sight.
"I just had to come clean."
Steve bends over and the sweats don't get pulled up fast enough for Eddie to miss the twin moles on his right cheek.
He turns back around quickly, scratching his forearm self-consciously.
"Dustin's right, I'm just making it more difficult than it has to be."
Okay, so maybe involving Henderson didn't backfire as badly as Eddie feared. On the other hand, he had half-naked Steve Harrington, squirming uncomfortably at his place, so it was hard to tell.
"Well, I'm here and listening, so you can go any moment now," Eddie prompts him, leaning against his desk. He observes Steve open and close his mouth hesitantly, and rolls his eyes. "Okay, kitchen," he commands, straightening up. When Steve doesn't move, he points at the door with his pan. "You go first, I don't trust that you're not gonna turn into something else."
Steve has made half a step when his eyes widen.
"You figured it out?"
Eddie raises his eyebrows, pan twisting in his grip half-threateningly.
"So you are a mimic?"
"I don't know what a mimic is!" Steve groans, frustrated. "I just turn into a dog."
At first Eddie's ready to scoff, maybe throw the pan at him, but as he studies Steve's expression, he frowns. Slowly, he connects the dots in his brain.
"You've been the dog all this time?"
Steve nods.
"That's why I never saw you? Because you were right there, turned into a fucking dog?" he asks incredulously.
"Yeah," Steve admits, folding in on himself like he wanted to disappear.
Eddie puts the pan aside and starts pulling his rings off, one by one. Steve eyes him warily, and it takes him a moment to speak up.
"Uh, what are you doing?"
Eddie looks him calmly in the eye.
"I'm going to punch you now, and I don't want to cut you up."
They sit facing each other on the warmed up concrete, having given away the lawn chairs to the girls. Steve is sliding every piece of onion off his skewer and onto Eddie's plate, which sits right next to his for easy sharing. It reminds him of cafeteria meals and swapping snacks with friends, something he never had with Steve, because of how different they were in high school. It makes him wonder if what he's feeling could really be mutual.
"Are you staying for the movie?"
His eyes snap back up to meet Steve's, waiting for an answer.
"I guess so. What are we watching?" It might not be the wisest to keep around while figuring himself out, but what is he going to do? Not spend time with his friends?
Steve rolls his eyes.
"The jury is still out," he answers dryly. "But I can guess some nerd shit will get majorly outvoted."
Eddie snorts.
"What would you pick? A baseball game?" he asks, chewing on a piece of meat. His fingers are getting greasy, but they forgot to grab napkins and standing up sounds like too much exercise.
Steve moves the grilled bits on his plate with the now empty skewer.
"Not really..." he says, all quiet and shy, which immediately grabs Eddie's attention. Wary of the food and drinks between them, he leans in conspiratorially.
"You can tell me, I ain't a snitch," he reassures, and when Steve looks up, he adds a wink. Steve huffs out an amused breath.
"I like romantic comedies," he admits, watching Eddie warily, like he's awaiting judgement.
"Huh." He sits back to properly take him in. "That kinda makes sense."
"Yeah?" Steve raises an eyebrow.
"Yeah." Eddie shrugs, and now he's feeling self-conscious. "It suits you. We could watch something one day, your pick."
Ohmygodsohmygodsohmygods, do not invite Steve for one-on-one romcom watching—!
Steve's face lights up with a wide smile.
"Oh, I'm going to hold you to that one, Munson," he teases, but it's obvious he's genuinely excited by the offer.
"Already regretting I said it," Eddie teases back, but offers Steve a strip of bacon so he knows he doesn't mean it.
Without thinking, he starts licking the grease off his fingers, and it takes him a moment to realize Steve stopped moving. He looks up with a questioning hum, fingertip in his mouth.
"You need a napkin?" Steve asks with a raise of his eyebrows.
"Nah, I'm good," Eddie mumbles around his finger just to be difficult, and pushes it deeper, sucking with gusto. For once, Steve doesn't look into his eyes, too focused on his mouth. His cheeks are colored the faintest shade of pink, and Eddie finally realizes what he's been doing. He slides his finger out with a wet smack and smiles apologetically. "Sorry. Want me to lick yours too?" he offers, like the good friend that he is.
Someone nearby chokes, but he's too focused on the bit to check who. Their fault for listening in, right?
Meanwhile, Steve's face turns tomato red.
"Uh, I'll manage myself. I'm good at licking," he cringes as soon as the worlds leave his mouth, and Eddie almost chokes himself with how hard he laughs.
After the party, comes more cleaning. This time, as there's more people and everyone gets forced into using their two hands and opposable thumbs, it goes faster, though with much more complaining.
Sometime in the middle of filling the trash bags, Robin has changed the music. Steve sighs, when the first song plays, but by the next two, his head is nodding to the beat. On the chorus, his hips sway, and Eddie almost drops the plate he's holding.
"Your song, dingus!" Robin yells when the next song starts, making Steve roll his eyes. But he's shimmying his shoulders and mouthing along to all the lyrics.
They tie away their bags at the same time, which gives Eddie the misfortune of watching him free his hands and make a silly little dance.
"Well, you ain't never caught no rabbit, you ain't no friend of mine!" he mouths along, and when he catches Eddie staring, he gives him a sheepish smile and a wink.
"Should I find you more dog themed songs to dance to?" he raises his eyebrow with a smile.
"No—"
"Yes!" Robin pops out from behind him, seemingly out of nowhere. "I'm constantly on the look out, but there aren't many good songs. I want to make a playlist." She grins.
"Oh, I'm in." Eddie smiles back, extending his hand. Their palms slap together, and Steve shakes his head.
"Wow. Traitors."
"Oh, I'd never betray you, Hound Dog," Eddie declares with a hand to his heart. Steve flips him off.
They pick The Battle for Endor, which Steve accepts with a sigh and a quiet "At least it has teddies," something probably only Eddie can hear, since he's sitting right next to him. He starts dozing off halfway through anyway, but Eddie doesn't wake him up until the movie ends and they have to plan how to get the younger lot home. It was a busy day, after all.
"I'm going home anyway, so I can take them," Nancy offers.
"Don't be stupid," Steve mumbles in his half-asleep state. "You won't fit them in your car."
"I can get Max and Super Twins," Eddie says, and the grasp around his arm tightens. He looks down at Steve, suddenly awake and frowning.
"You're not staying?" he asks, audibly upset.
"I'll come back," Eddie reassures him quickly, patting his hand. "Okay! Mad Max, Wonder Twins, grab your shit. The sooner we leave, the closer I am to getting wasted," he commands, gently prying himself out of Steve's grasp. He scratches behind his ear as a consolation. "Should I grab anything while I'm out?"
"No," Steve says quickly, even though Jonathan has already opened his mouth, most probably with a request.
Something twists in Eddie's chest.
"Okay, buddy, I'll be back as soon as I can, no detours," he reassures again, with another scratch.
"Okay, thanks." Steve closes his eyes briefly, but then blinks them open and pushes at his thigh, like his mind has suddenly cleared from the remnants of sleep. "Be quick, but without breaking the law." He smiles up at Eddie.
"Ugh, fine." He rolls his eyes. "Be right back," he nudges Steve's head before motioning the kids to follow him outside.
It's suddenly silent, with the movie over and most of the people gone from the room. Steve clears his throat, watching Robin crawl over the carpet to rewind the tape.
"So only Nancy isn't staying?" he asks, looking around the room.
"I already told my parents I'm sleeping over." Robin shrugs.
Jonathan and Argyle look at each other, like they are communicating in a way not dissimilar to Steve and Robin.
"It's good vibes here, man," Argyle says, his hair swaying as he nods.
"Eddie promised we'll compare the goods," Jonathan adds.
"Oh, right!" his friend perks up, his eyes sparkling. "Almost forgot about that."
Robin makes a face.
"God, I really hope you mean the weed," she says. "You think I can still persuade Nancy to come back?"
The boys start snickering, but Steve quickly collects himself to answer her question, no matter how unserious it is.
"I think she wouldn't be comfortable," he winces, because they all know why. "But I could drive you to hers if you want to?" he offers instead.
She shakes her head.
"Nah, just give me a beer and I'll lower my joke standards to yours."
"Okay, you don't have to be mean, Robs," Steve rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. On his way to the kitchen, he tugs on her hair. "Beers for everyone?" He turns to look at each of his remaining guests.
Jonathan nods, but Argyle shakes his head.
"I don't mix my substances," he says, pulling out a joint out of his pocket instead.
When Eddie comes back, he makes a beeline upstairs, hoping he hasn't been spotted. He doubts his van hasn't been heard, her old-lady coughs being a part of her charm, but maybe he was stealthy enough inside not to be traced.
But once he's back down he realizes how foolish that thought was. Because somehow, Steve is ridiculously attuned to him and has his eyes on Eddie immediately, like he's been expecting him. A cold bottle of beer is pressed into his hand when he sits back in the seat that's been waiting for him.
"Dropped some stuff upstairs, since I'm sleeping over again," he explains quietly without prompting, his nervousness making him yap unnecessarily, as usual. "Uh, are we bunking together too, or...?" It was probably stupid of him to assume, considering there are more people in the house today that need a place to sleep.
Considering his own freak out this morning.
"Of course," Steve says with a smile that tells him no other option had crossed his mind. "Unless you don't want to?" he cocks his head, almost like he's tilting curious, pointed ears. "I promise to wear pants this time."
Jonathan chokes on his beer, and when Eddie snaps his head that way, Argyle gives him a supportive smile and that weird surfer gesture, while patting Jon on the back.
He hopes the dim light of the room hides the flush of embarrassment on his face.
"Well, since you promise to be decent, how could I say no?" he says, rolling his head back to Steve.
Steve, who gives him a relieved, dazzling smile, and presses their thighs together, flooding his whole body with warmth.
The chamomile is still slightly warm when Eddie gets back to it. Steve's legs cross over his lap and he feels not only allowed but expected to put his hand there and play with the coarse hair of his thigh. The body heat is a little too much for comfort, but it's a small price to pay to be close like this.
"What are you telling Robin?" Eddie asks, because it's the easier way to talk about their current status, or the nearest future of it.
He observes closely how Steve's mouth twists with distaste.
"Uh, preferably nothing, but I know she'll find out sooner than later. She's been insufferable about it since forever."
Eddie raises his eyebrows curiously.
"What does 'forever' mean?"
"Uh..." Steve looks away immediately.
"Steve," he chastises him, putting more pressure into his fingers to dig them into the flesh of his thigh. Steve's evasive gaze snaps back to his hand.
"Forever," he repeats. "As soon as I could focus on anything other than killing Vecna, probably. Maybe earlier," he admits.
Eddie blinks at him. He keeps staring as his brain supplies him with all the instances of Steve being close, leaning in for monster-fighting camaraderie, which apparently might have been more than that. And later befriending him as a dog. He frowns.
"Were you dog-stalking me because you were into me?" he asks, feigning offence but both curious and amused at the idea.
"No...no!" Steve protests immediately but by the flush blooming on his cheeks, Eddie knows there's more to it.
"You did!" he gasps. "You little creep!" Eddie swats at his thigh. "And they call me a freak! I probably undressed in front of you, didn't I?" No matter how hard he thinks about it, he can't remember, but since he thought Steve was just a regular dog at that time, why wouldn't he? It's not like it's indecent to change your shirt in front of a pet.
"I didn't look," Steve murmured defensively, proving further that it had happened.
"You also didn't stop me!"
"How?" Steve frowns at him. "How would I stop you without exposing myself?" Then, he swiftly slaps his palm over Eddie's mouth.
"Don't," he warns.
"Hmph?"
"You were going to make a joke about 'exposing myself'." Steve gives him a flat stare.
Eddie's eyes crinkle with mirth. He shrugs.
"D-h."
Steve sighs and removes his hand, but not before wiping it on Eddie's shirt. Then he settles back into his previous position.
"It was Dustin's idea, anyway."
Eddie widens his eyes at him, baffled.
"To creep on me?!"
"No!" It's Steve's turn to swat at him, now getting mildly annoyed. "He comes to me one day, all smirking like the little bastard that he is, and tells me you like dogs, and that I should go tell you. Because he wants us to be friends so badly, and a Steve-dog would be a great ice-breaker," he huffs.
"And your take from this was to shapeshift and start following me," Eddie deadpans.
"I wanted to ease you into it?" Steve offers weakly.
"But then you didn't want the scratches to stop," he teases.
"Well..." Steve's cheeks redden, and Eddie laughs.
"It's okay, water under the bridge," he reassures him with a gentle nudge. "We're in a good place now, right?"
"Right." Steve smiles, happily wiggling his butt in the space between Eddie's legs and the back of the couch. "What do you want for dinner?" he asks, taking a glance at the clock on the wall.
"It's a bit late for a date, don't you think?"
"Huh?"
Eddie raises his hand, wiggling his fingers to remind him of their earlier activities.
"You already ate my cum, you don't need to wine and dine me," he says with a grin.
Steve gapes at him for a moment, the blush he just managed to tamp down, coming back. But he finds it in himself to school his features into a charming smile. He reaches down to wrap his hand over the meat of Eddie's thigh, pull him just a bit closer.
"On the contrary. There's still many bases to cover."
"Ohjesus," Eddie breathes out, turning pink himself.
"And we can totally have a date today if you want. Wanna go out or stay in?" Steve cocks his head, relishing in having the upper hand again, tapping into what he knows.
"I, uh, inside, I guess?"
Steve nods, utterly pleased with the effect he has on him.
"More privacy, smart. Should we order in or cook?"
"Uh, we already cooked yesterday?" Eddie offers, feeling a little uprooted. He's never been on a date before, not even an indoor one.
"True, we can have a lazy day today." Steve smiles, squeezing his thigh. The boy jumps slightly under his hand. "I'm gonna go grab the menus, hold this for me?"
He hands him his almost empty coffee mug and leaves the comfy groove he's made himself between Eddie's body and couch cushions. Eddie grunts as he balances off of him.
"Thanks." Steve hesitates as he takes back the mug, but makes up his mind quickly and leans down to give him a peck on the lips. Eddie might have been unprepared, but catches on quickly, angling his face to lock their lips together. The parting takes a little longer than planned, but none of them seem to mind. "I'll be right back," Steve reminds him with a smile, pulling apart with a wet smack.
Eddie licks his lips.
"You better."
"Kitchen is literally right around the corner!" Steve points out, almost there already.
It takes them longer than usual to decide on the order anyway, because they can't stop making out once that seal is broken, that blanket permission that yes, you can have at it whenever, I want to kiss you too. Eddie thinks it's going to be a great date no matter what they will get anyway.
But once his mouth is busy with something other than Steve, he remembers the question that's been evaded later.
"So..." he clicks his tongue while shoveling fried rice onto his fork. "This is a date."
Steve blinks up at him, slurping in his noodles with a wet sound that makes him snort. He presses his foot into Eddie's shin while he chews, and then clears his throat.
"Yes. And?" he cocks his head. They are sitting on the floor at the coffee table, facing each other, with plates of Chinese food between them.
"Does that mean we're dating?" Eddie focuses on his plate, hoping he won't come off as stupid or naïve if he isn't looking. "I'm not familiar with the rituals."
Steve lets out an amused huff.
"I guess so. But it can mean whatever you want. No pressure."
When he looks up, it's Steve staring into his plate.
"I don't feel pressured. But I'm not sure what I want," he admits. "Like, I just figured out this is something I might want, and I don't have a huge frame of reference. You'd probably have to guide me a bit."
Steve looks up.
"I don't mind that," he gives him a small, shy smile. "We can figure it out as we go."
"Cool."
"Cool."
They smile at each other, goofy and happy, and resume their dinner. Until Eddie grins widely, giggling to himself.
"What?" Steve raises his eyebrow, wary of whatever is happening in his... date's brain.
"I'm dating a werewolf! How cool is that?"
Steve shakes his head fondly and doesn't correct him.
That's a wrap on the main story but I might write some extras for this AU.
"What, you're not going to hug me?" Robin raises an eyebrow at Steve, who's still shifted and waggling his tail in an almost oblivious, dog fashion.
Eddie furrows his eyebrows, hands clenching at his biceps where he's crossed his arms.
"You can hug him yourself, Buckley, it's still Steve. Just lacking some motor skills."
Steve sends him a side eye, to which he only shrugs his shoulders. To him, Steve is Steve, no matter what form he takes. Sue him for getting annoyed when the rest of their friends don't get it.
Thankfully, Robin is Steve's closest friend—a platonic soulmate, as they say—so she kneels down to squeeze him so hard he whines.
"Oh, don't be a pussy, Harrington," she snickers, before releasing him. "I'll see you at work tomorrow, yeah?"
Steve barks an affirmation.
"And you," Robin points at Eddie. "Take care of my brother while I'm not here, okay?" She points from her eyes to him in an 'I'm watching you' gesture.
"Yes, sir!" Eddie salutes her before, he corrects himself: "Yes, ma'am! No harm will happen to him on my watch."
She finally grins at him and it feels like he's just got a blessing to take her daughter's hand.
"I damn fucking hope so, or your death will be painful. See you!" She waves at them both before disappearing in Argyle's van. The car peels off as soon as the doors are closed, since the other two have already said their goodbyes.
Now, in the dreadful silence, it's just Eddie and the dog next to him. When he turns his head, Steve is already looking up at him with his big brown eyes, and his tail is twitching against the stone pathway.
"Bath time?"
Steve barks excitedly, and doesn't waste any time before running back inside.
Eddie follows him slowly, since he has half the legs and all the opposable thumbs to actually lock the door behind them. Besides, he knows where he'll find him—inside his bathroom, looking wistfully at the tub.
"Do you need help?" he asks, but Steve throws him a determined look, and backs away. Eddie frowns. "Are you sure—?"
Steve is already jumping.
He makes a lot of noise, but doesn't seem like has taken any damage himself. Only knocked down all of the bottles standing on the lip of the bathtub.
"Now I have to pick those up, huh?" Eddie sighs as he's looking his nose over for any injuries.
Steve does a dog equivalent of a frown, and then yanks his head out of Eddie's hands, determinedly ducking for the scattered bottles to pick them up between his teeth and put back up. Eddie watches him struggle for a minute, bending his neck left and right and failing to set them upright, before he offers a teamwork solution—Steve hands him the bottles and he puts them in place.
"Can we just use human shampoo?" he asks, inspecting one of the labels as if the ingredients meant anything to him. Even if they had Chemistry this advanced in Hawkins, a. he would fail it, and b. he wouldn't know if it's safe for dogs anyway.
Steve pushes one of the bottles with his nose, causing it to clatter back down the slope of the bathtub. With a sigh, Eddie puts away what he had in hand and grabs that one.
"Baby shampoo?" he reads the label. "Why do you have baby shampoo?"
Since Steve, obviously, can't speak, he's just sitting motionless and staring at Eddie.
"Uh, I'm guessing it's better for dog hair?" Eddie muses.
Steve gives him a sideways nod of his head, partially confirmation, partially a 'well, I hope it is'.
"Okay, we need to get you wet first, let me just..." he trails off, disappearing briefly in the bedroom only to come back tying up his hair with a bandana. "I hope you don't suddenly find out you hate water."
Steve huffs at him like he's insinuating something ridiculous, and steps closer to the shower head. Eddie snorts.
"Can I take of my shirt too, actually?" he asks as he's rolling up his sleeves. Washing a dog sounds like a messy activity, even if the dog has a human brain inside. Especially, if that human brain is not above getting him wet on purpose.
At that, Steve's ears perk up and he turns to have a better view of Eddie. He raises his dog eyebrow as if asking him what he's waiting for.
It's absurd to be ogled by a dog, but Eddie suddenly feels the need to cover himself up, despite the t-shirt he's still wearing.
"On second thought, you're not getting a free nipple show, fuck off."
Steve huffs loudly through his nose, looking genuinely dejected. Eddie flips him off for good measure and hopes to anything that's listening, that he won't blush in front of a fucking dog.
He turns on the water, testing the temperature on his hand, before aiming the stream at Steve. Wary at first, he quickly relaxes when Eddie starts scratching his fur to get it all thoroughly wet. The shampoo smells similar to baby powder, but not bad overall.
"You're going to smell like a wet dog anyway," Eddie jokes.
Steve is too blissed out to react, eyes closed as Eddie rubs the shampoo around his ears. He's a big dog, so it takes quite a while to lather him all up. By the time Eddie's done, the front of his shirt is all soaked, as he expected, and Steve's head is resting on the edge of the tub.
"Hey." Eddie scratches gently between his ears. "Don't fall asleep, it's time to rinse."
This part is less enjoyable for both parties. Getting all the foam out takes forever and Steve almost hits him with his forehead when water gets into his eyes.
It reminds Eddie of this morning's happenings and he suddenly wishes he had two more dogs to rub clean. As it is, Steve is thoroughly rinsed far too soon and looking wet and miserable in the middle of the bathtub. Eddie immediately brightens up.
"Aw, look at this sad, wet dog," he coos with a mean smile. Steve stands up. "Wait. Steve, no—!"
He only has enough time to shield his eyes before Steve shakes himself violently, sending water flying all over the bathroom.
"Oh, fuck you," Eddie groans, grabbing the nearest towel to wipe himself off. "See if I help you with drying now."
Steve's face, smug and proud of himself milliseconds ago, falls so quickly it feels like a slapstick comedy sketch.
His threats have no substance behind them, because he's feeling miserable in just his wet shirt, so he can only imagine how bad it must feel when your whole body is covered in wet fur. Not to mention the pleading look Steve is giving him while water drips from his ears. With a deep, pained sigh, Eddie reaches for the fluffiest towel he could find.
"Come here." He gives in.
Drying a dog proves more difficult than he thought. They soak up two thick towels and Steve is still damp and visibly uncomfortable.
"Uh, maybe you could air dry?" Eddie thinks out loud, still rubbing the towel around his neck and ears. He's sitting on the floor, Steve between his legs and the wet towels lying pathetically around them. "It's hot outside, so it should be okay." He cocks his head. "I don't think you would get sick, even all wet like this," he adds, though unsure.
The idea is enough to have Steve up and running to get outside. Eddie rolls his eyes.
"Sure, leave me with the mess, why won't you," he mutters, getting up from the floor to grab the soaked towels and clean up the mess they've made.
Not only am I late but also I'm posting this from my phone so sorry if anything looks wonky
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Eddie has to simmer with it over his coffee, while Steve is standing right in front of him, just out of reach. He's right there, cool as a cucumber, debating pouring maple syrup into his coffee, like he hasn't just seen Eddie's boner. And Eddie his.
He hides his face in his palms. And Steve said they'll get back to this! When?! The breakfast isn't happening fast enough, and the anticipation might kill him before they get some alone time. Yet it's all happening faster than he'd like, too. He has just figured it out and he'd like his three weeks notice, thank you very much.
A hand lands on his shoulder, gently shaking him out of his thoughts.
"Maple syrup coffee?" Steve asks, handing him his mug. His eyes are warm and knowing.
"Sure, why not," Eddie shrugs, taking the drink. It's warm and sweet, and he sticks his tongue out in displeasure. "How much sugar is in this thing?"
"I forgot I already sweetened it before the syrup," Steve admits without shame. He takes back the mug, drinking his sugary concoction with no problem.
"Shouldn't you not eat sugar if you're a dog?" Argyle asks, munching on a dry toast. They are waiting for the leftovers from yesterday to bake in the oven.
"No, thankfully. But I do get upset stomach from grapes and raw onions."
"Hey, quick question." Eddie raises his hand, attracting Steve's attention. "When did Argyle find out?"
"Find out what?" Argyle frowns at them, looking from one to the other.
"That Steve's a werewolf?"
"He is?" His bushy eyebrows rise up. He turns to Steve. "You are?"
Steve stares at him, confused.
"You just called me a dog," he points out.
"I told you!" Jonathan smack his friend on the shoulder.
"I thought it was like, an inside joke!" Argyle throws his arms up. "That he's a dog person? The way I am a cat person?"
Everyone is just staring at each other for a moment, looking from one to another for the confirmation that what they've just heard is, in fact, real.
"Technically, I'm a Lycan," Steve mutters into his sugary coffee. The oven beeps, and the warm food spares them from talking for some time.
Steve sits with his plate next to Eddie, pressing his thigh hesitantly against his. Eddie presses back, and leans in close to whisper just between the two of them.
"At least I'm not the last one to find out anymore."
"I said I'm sorry!" Steve hisses back, knocking his knee into his, just hard enough for him to feel it. He knocks back.
"Well, at least my reveal was more intimate," he mocks quietly, before getting back to his food. From the corner of his eye, he can see Steve's embarrassed flush.
"Yeah, I got really intimate with your fist," Steve grumbles under his breath.
Eddie, having left his brain to mouth filter somewhere in his mother's womb, cannot pass this opportunity at a crass joke.
"Not as intimate as you could," he says, waggling his eyebrows. Steve gapes at him, blinking as his brain processes the words.
"There are children at this table!" Robin yells out, covering her ears.
"Well, this is a private conversation and you shouldn't be listening in!" Eddie reprimands her in his best suburban father impression.
"Damn." Argyle nods his head appreciatively. "You guys down for a threesome? I could learn so much from you."
Steve looks so spooked Eddie almost inhales a piece of chicken with how hard he laughs.
Eddie's not laughing later, when Argyle is rubbing delighted Steve's belly. Because after a reveal like that, a demonstration is required, and at first, he was glad. Anything to postpone facing his feelings. But now, he wanted to tear out every last strand of Argyle's luscious, flowing hair.
"Who's a good dude?" Argyle laughs when Steve gives a small bark. "Yeah bro, you are!"
"You guys are shedding hair all over the carpet," Eddie points out. Not like it's his hair to deal with, but they are having too much fun on this probably expensive, beige rug.
"Ah, sorry bro." Argyle withdraws his hands. "Do you mind?" he, rightfully, asks the owner of the house.
Steve gives a bark, paws moving invitingly for more scratches. Argyle laughs.
"I hope I'm not tripping right now, this is so rad."
Eddie scrunches his nose, watching tiny hair land on the carpet around Steve.
"I'm sure Steve won't mind if you want to vacuum for him later."
"Sh-Jesus!" he jumps when Robin materializes next to him. "What the fuck, man?"
She raises her eyebrows at him.
"I've been standing here for a while," she deadpans.
"No you haven't," he bristles. "Liar."
"Sure," Robin snorts. "I'm gonna join the dog petting. You keep doing whatever..." she waves her hand at him, "...this is." She pats his arm before joining Argyle and Steve on the carpet.
Eddie gapes at them. He has just been patronized but he's not sure what for. All he knows is that Steve looks as happy as a buttered pancake, even more so when Robin joins the impromptu petting session. Eddie wants to tear her hair out a little bit less than Argyle's.
He sits on the couch, letting others have their fill with dog-Steve. Just a week ago, whenever Eddie would see him in the wild, hanging out with someone else, there was never this much joy involved. Almost like the kids didn't feel comfortable with Steve being in his dog form with them, though Eddie suspected they were more worried than anything else. If he had an animal form, he'd be hiding in it at the smallest inconvenience, so he can't blame either of them.
Eventually, their friends get engaged in a conversation about some weird movie he's never heard of, and Steve escapes their hands, shaking himself off before he joins Eddie on the couch. After eternity of itching to pet him, he can bury his fingers in the soft fur. Steve falls heavily into his side, stretching his neck out, and he only huffs out a laugh, scratching where he's asked to.
"Does your hair routine translate to the the dog hair? Or do you have to get it washed separately?" he asks, genuinely curious.
Steve's head perks up, and his wide dark eyes meet his.
"It does translate, actually," Robin picks up on the question. "Which is fucking insane but very convenient."
"It is insane," Eddie admits, his eyes only on Steve. Because his puppy dog eyes show interest, a question and a plea, and Eddie would be honored to fulfill whatever his heart desires.
Eddie doesn't believe dreams have meaning. He believes your brain simply relaxes after a day of working, letting everything it saw and thought run freely and stick into weird, meaningless shapes.
But that morning, he woke up with a whine.
He's dreamt of Steve's puppy dog eyes looking up against his chest. He's dreamt of grocery aisles navigated with a leash in hand. He's dreamt of fur and skin and eating at the table, him from a plate, and Steve from a dog bowl.
And it made his sad heart constrict and ache. No matter how much he's been dragging Steve around to see their friends and to prepare for their little party, he still has been off and distant. Eddie was missing something, and Steve wouldn't tell him what it was.
The party is this weekend, and today he's helping Steve prepare the backyard. It's the last moment to coax it out of him. Gently. And preferably without him noticing.
It's a weird thing to take note of and enjoy, but Eddie still does—carrying a barbecue out of a shed is something only humans could do, and he's elated to be able to do it with Steve. He pats his hands against his jeans, dusting them off leftover dirt and ash.
"Good job!" he says with a grin and reaches out towards Steve. It works, his friend ducking his head with a smile to accept a quick scratch against his scalp. Eddie feels proud of himself more than he ever did for passing an exam. He's tip-toeing the line between Steve's two forms, with full intent to breach it soon, and he's eating out of his hand.
Huh.
Maybe he should try that at some point, too.
They find another barbecue, smaller than the last one, and bring it out as well, and after a short break, they start cleaning. While pulling out lawn chairs from the pool shed, Eddie finds some old toys. And among them, a tennis ball. A golden opportunity Eddie is unable to pass. He runs outside, where Steve is cleaning the pool.
"Catch!" It's all the warning he gives before throwing the ball at him.
Steve turns to him and his eyes widen joyfully when he spots the ball. He hesitates for a millisecond too long, but still manages to catch it, the net he's been using to fish out leaves falling to the ground. He throws the toy from one hand to another, almost transfixed, before looking up.
"Since when do you like throwing balls around?" he asks, cocking his head.
"Since I have a dog to play with." Eddie grins at him. "Wanna play fetch?"
Steve's arms fall and Eddie thinks he might have overstepped this time. That's it, their tentative friendship is gone. Who's going to hug Steve now?
"You're joking."
"Try me." Eddie lifts his chin, digging his grave deeper.
Steve shuffles his weight from one leg to another, the ball in his hand moving hypnotizingly.
"Are you going to make fun of me?" he asks, looking up all blasé like it wouldn't hurt him. For now, it's only hurting Eddie that he could think of him like that.
"Of course not," he protests. "I just thought it could be fun. I'm sorry if it's like, overstepping or something." He raises his shoulders in a defensive shrug. Steve considers him for a moment.
"It could be fun," he admits eventually, before throwing the ball straight at Eddie's chest. He scrambles to catch it, so he completely misses the moment Steve shifts. When he looks up, he sees the dog already shaking out from the polo Steve has just been wearing.
Relieved, Eddie raises his hand, Steve's muscles tensing in anticipation, and when he throws, it's like a spring let loose, flying after the ball. He grins, and he can see the same delight in Steve's eyes when he proudly brings the toy back.
"Good boy," Eddie praises him after he gets the slightly damp ball back in his hand. But he can feel Steve tensing under his hand when he scratches his head. He frowns. "You don't like that?"
He shakes his head, and Eddie presses his lips together.
"No, you don't, or no, you do like it?"
Despite the dog's limited expression, he can sense the exasperation as they stare at each other.
"Okay, uh, do you want to be called a good boy?" he clears up his question.
Steve hesitates but nods.
"Okay, you got it." Eddie smiles, giving him another scratch before throwing the ball again. He watches Steve dive between the untamed bushes that surround the backyard. As the dog struts back, he forms his next question but waits till the ball is back in his grasp before he asks it.
"Do you want to be called a good boy when you shift back?"
Steve stares at him.
Eddie stares back.
It's a tiny thing, easy to miss, but Steve nods. Eddie smiles at him.
"You got it, Stevie," he says, reaching to give him more scratches. "So good, telling me what you need. All you gotta do is ask, okay? Don't be shy, man. We're friends. "
Impulsively, he leans in to plant a kiss on the slope of his furry snout. He throws the ball again.
So Steve needs some praise and reassurances? He can do that.
