Steve learns how to crochet mostly to cope with the stress of feeling responsible for the safety and wellbeing of so many kids who never seem to want to listen to him.
The first person to find out about this secret hobby is Robin. His parents stop helping him out financially when they realise he's not just taking a gap year to figure things out and has in fact decided not to go to college. Steve doesn't have the money to get her something fancy for her birthday so he instead buys wool and buttons in her favourite colour and crochets a cardigan. He's never seen someone react so enthusiastically to a present he gave them before and every time he sees her wearing it he feels a surge of pride at the fact that he created something she loves so much.
The second person is Eddie, who complains everyone's ears off about how thin the hospital blankets are and how cold his room is while he's recovering from the demobat attack. Steve crochets a blanket for him. It's basic, black with thin red stripes, and the entire time Steve is wondering why he's even spending so much time making it when Eddie will be discharged before he knows it. He hands it to him one day when he's visiting with Dustin and Robin.
"Oh nice, you bought me a blanket," Eddie says, immediately opening it and spreading it out over his lap.
"Actually I made it," Steve corrects. "I'm still a beginner so it's not the best but it should be pretty warm for-"
Eddie's gaze snaps up from trailing over the intricate little knots of wool.
"You made this?" Eddie asks, his eyes wide.
Steve nods.
"You made this?" he repeats, holding up the corner of the blanket and pointing at it as if it wasn't obvious what he was talking about.
"That's what I just said, yeah," Steve responds.
"Sir Steven Harrington," Eddie grins. "You continue to surprise me. Who knew jocks could knit?"
Steve rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated huff.
"It's crochet not knitting. And if you don't like it I can-" he reaches to take it back, but Eddie snatches it away in a tight grip, pulling the edge of it to his chest like he's protecting something sacred.
"No way, Big boy." He refuses. "You've bestowed this precious gift upon me and I have accepted it. No takebacks. I will take care of it and protect it with my dying breath." His expression changes to something unsure. "Wait, is it okay for me to keep this or did you want it back when I leave?"
"Please don't talk about your dying breath when you're sitting in a hospital bed after almost bleeding out," Steve chastises, crossing his arms, unimpressed. "And yes you can keep it. I made it for you."
Before he can say anything else, Eddie drags him down into a crushing hug, not giving a shit about the tube attached to his wrist or his fairly recently stitched sides. Dustin later describes the noise Steve made as sounding like a cat having its tail stepped on. Robin points out in a teasing way that it took Steve a suspiciously long time to disengage from that hug, just making a perfectly casual observation.
The next one to get a handmade gift is Dustin. He wouldn't let go of the fact that Steve had made something for both Robin and Eddie before him even though he was supposed to be Steve's best friend. That christmas Steve gifted him a handmade sweater with a lightsaber design on the front, which meant he had to make things for the rest of the teens not long after because of course Dustin went around wearing it and bragging at every possible opportunity.
Soon all the people Steve cared about the most had something made by him.
Then one day Eddie asks him to teach him how to crochet so he can make something for Wayne to show how much he appreciates him. Steve thinks it's a really sweet idea, so he agrees. Eddie found a photo of a sweater he wanted to try and make for him, but he's finding it really tricky even with Steve's help. So in the end, Steve makes the sweater and they both work on a much easier blanket pattern together.
Steve's spending a lot of time in Eddie's room, sitting very close to him and occasionally gently taking hold of his hands to guide him when he gets stuck. This is how he finds out that Eddie still sleeps under that blanket Steve made for him over a year ago. It's also how he ends up making out with him on top of said blanket.
Wayne is so touched when he gets his handmade gifts that Christmas that he cries. Eddie teases him about it until Steve, who's spending his first Christmas with the Munsons as Eddie's boyfriend, reminds Eddie that he practically ripped Steve's hand off at the hospital when he tried to take that first blanket back.
"Yeah, well, it was important to me. You made it." Eddie shrugs. Then he picks up a large, slightly lumpy present and shoves it into his hands. "And you still haven't opened your gift. Less talking, more opening."
After that Steve is the one trying not to cry, because the second he pulls back the wrapping paper, a blanket pours out onto his lap, navy with white stripes. It was clearly made by Eddie because it smells like him, and some of the stitches show mistakes that he made when they were working on Wayne's gifts together.
He gently takes the material into his hands and runs his thumbs over each bump in awe. No one's ever put this much effort into a gift for him before. "I love it," he says, his voice slightly shaky.
"Are you sure?" Eddie replies, self-conscious. "I made a few mistakes, and I ran out of wool at one point, but the store didn't have any left in the same shade of blue so there's a small part at the bottom that looks slightly different. I can get you something else if you want. I know it's not as good as yours."
Steve leans over and shuts him up with a kiss on the lips, something he's learned is extremely effective over the course of their relationship.
Wayne couldn't believe his eyes the first time it happened. He was smoking on the porch, enjoying the breeze and trying not to think about rent coming up due when a shiny BMW pulled up in front of the trailer. The windows were down and Wayne could see clear as day that the driver was none other than the Harrington boy. And his Eddie was in the passenger seat, body turned towards Harrington, laughing at something he said.
Eddie grabbed a backpack out of the backseat but didn't get out right away, lingering to talk to Harrington, who was smiling and touching Eddie's shoulder.
Finally, when Wayne's nerves had just about had enough, Eddie got out of the car and bounded up to the porch, stopping on the top step to turn and wave goodbye to Steve as he reversed back onto the road. Then he flung himself down into the seat beside Wayne and propped his chin on his hand.
“How's it going, old man?” he asked, grinning the way he did whenever he was deliberately needling Wayne, trying to get under his skin.
“Come off with that shit,” Wayne said gruffly, which did not at all dampen Eddie's spirits. “And what's the likes of him doing giving you a ride home?”
“Who, Steve?” Eddie said, sounding baffled. “Oh, the van got a flat, and I never replaced the spare, so he gave me a ride. No big deal.”
Wayne stubbed out the cigarette and dropped it in the ashtray. “You need help getting it fixed up?”
Eddie didn't answer right away, chewing on his thumbnail.
“Nah,” he said at last. “I got it. Should have the money by the end of the week.”
He was a good kid, Wayne’s boy. Understood that money was short more often than not and tried not to take from Wayne what he didn't absolutely need. Wayne knew that Eddie sold on the side for extra cash and that he'd probably be swinging by a few parties on the weekend to get what he needed. He didn't like it, worried sick about Eddie ending up like his dad, but they'd be in a bind without it.
“If you need a ride to school or someplace, you let me know.”
“Oh, Steve already said he'd take me,” Eddie said with a wave of his hand, like it was no big deal. Like it wasn't setting off alarm bells in Wayne's head.
“Didn't realize you were that friendly with him,” Wayne said. “He doesn't exactly run in your circles, does he?”
That made Eddie laugh. “Definitely not.”
Wayne wanted to press further, to try and figure out what Harrington's motives were—because there was no way a Harrington would do a favor for a Munson without expecting something in return—but Eddie was already standing up and stretching, slinging his bag over his shoulder to head inside.
“I'm starving,” he said. “How about hamburgers for dinner tonight?”
“Sure,” Wayne said, and waved Eddie off when he lingered at the door. “You go on. I'll be in in a minute.”
He wanted another cigarette, but he was trying to cut back. He also wanted to sit Eddie down and tell him to stay away from Harrington, but he couldn't do that either. Eddie was grown and he wouldn't take kindly to Wayne trying to dictate who he could spend time with.
Besides, it wasn't like Eddie didn't already know about the Holland girl. If he was still willing to spend time with Harrington, knowing that Harrington had been involved in her disappearance—in her death, because Wayne didn't believe for one second that she'd run off to the city—well. Wayne was going to have his work cut out for him trying to keep Eddie safe.
Steve teaches himself constellations just so he can pull out this knowledge to impress girls by pointing them out on dates, but he accidentally becomes super interested in astronomy. Before he knows it he's buying books about planets and stars and digging out a fancy telescope his parents got him for his birthday when he was a kid and using it for the first time. Turns out the girls he dates tend to switch off as soon as he starts rambling about things he's spotted through it, but he's invested in it now. He vows never to let the others find out about this because they would tease him relentlesly about secretly also being a nerd.
But then one day he's in the room when Eddie's running a dnd session and he makes a mistake when describing some stars pirates are using to navigate. Steve 'um actually's him without even thinking about it and ends up with an audience of very curious teens asking question after question and one very enthusiastic Eddie Munson egging them on with a 'yes tell us all about the stars, Stevie.'
At some point in the future when Eddie and Steve are dating. Eddie tells him it makes perfect sense that Steve gets lost in the stars sometimes when he was born with constellations of freckles all over his skin. Steve gets so flustered he's not sure how to respond for a good minute.
Eddie knew Steve didn't mean anything by it. He had personally been on the defensive side of an argument with Dustin, and he knew how hellish it could get.
The kid was relentless, and sometimes you just wanted to get it over with.
So when Dustin kept grilling Steve about his relationship with Robin and how there was no way they didn't have sexual tension between them, Eddie already knew it would take a lot to convince the kid otherwise.
And there was no way Steve would spill Robin's secret about her sexuality just to prove a point. He wasn't an asshole.
"Dustin, I'm telling you. Robin and I are basically fraternal twins. There's nothing–"
"Steve Harrington, don't lie to me! You were the biggest womanizer ever, and you're telling me you have sleepovers with a girl and nothing happens? I'm not an idiot!"
Steve muttered under his breath, "sometimes that's exactly what you are," which got a snicker out of Eddie, reminding the two of them that he was still there.
They were supposed to be watching a movie, but then Dustin just couldn't let it go.
"I promise you, there isn't any kind of sexual tension between Robin and me. Never was and never will be."
"I don't believe it!"
"You don't have to," Steve said exasperated, running a hand on his face in that cute way Eddie was secretly so fond of. "I probably have more sexual tension with Eddie than with Robin. Right, man?"
Eddie felt his eyes almost bugging out of his face.
"W-what?"
Now, both Dustin and Steve were looking at him, but Steve had this mischievous expression on his face.
"Yeah, say, if I were to do this," Steve said, moving on the couch. They were at the Harringtons', and their furniture was way too big for a family of three, which meant Eddie was always sprawled out on the couch, enjoying the free space.
But now Steve fucking Harrington was crawling up to him on all fours, and he was basically straddling Eddie's body so he could get really up close and personal with him.
"You're an asshole," Dustin said, and just like that, Steve had won the argument. Because he had done something so ridiculous, Dustin didn't have a choice but to drop the whole thing.
The problem was... Steve didn't look like he was dropping it.
He was currently hovering over Eddie, his face mere inches from Eddie's face.
And maybe Steve was just fucking with him. Doing a bit. Because one minute he was looking Eddie in the eye, and the next he glanced down, right at Eddie's mouth.
The bastard even licked his lips before looking back up, and Eddie felt his whole face warming up.
What the fuck.
"Gross. You've made your point, Steve. Let's just watch the movie," Dustin groaned from his side of the couch.
Steve smiled, clearly pleased with himself, and leaned in to peck Eddie's cheek. Eddie couldn't contain a pathetic little whine, low enough that maybe Dustin hadn't heard, but from the look in Steve's eyes, he had.
And much to Eddie's disappointment, Steve retreated, sitting back on the couch and leaving Eddie and his desperate reminder that he had been pining over Steve Harrington for an entire year by now.
And now, even though Steve meant nothing by it, Eddie couldn't shake the feeling of having Steve on top of him, and how all he wanted to do was to kiss the fuck out of him.
Robin buys a vintage lamp off Marketplace, and the seller, Chrissy, says that she's sending her friend Eddie to deliver it. This instantly makes Robin too nervous to go pick it up herself, so naturally, she sends Steve to collect it.
Steve returns home after two hours looking like a hot mess, hair all fucked up and shirt totally wrinkled. Robin is freaking out, asking what took so long, why hasn't he been answering his phone, and Steve just shrugs and says "Sorry, the guy who dropped off the lamp was hot. We fooled around in the back of his van and we're going out this weekend."
He hands Robin the lamp as she stands there, completely baffled, and says "Could have been you if you and Chrissy weren't scaredy-cats," before heading off to his room.
Eddie and Steve have been dating for three months when Eddie introduces Steve to Wayne. Afterwards, Steve is just like, "Oh, wow. Wow. Oh god, he hates me. He hates me, doesn't he?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Eddie asks. "He shook your hand and invited you to stay for dinner."
"Yeah, god. It's so obvious. He hates me," Steve stresses. "Do you think he's going to make you break up with me? He hated me so much. Geez."
"Steve, he doesn't-"
"I've dated a lot of girls, Eddie. That's how dads act when they hate you," He swears. "Fuck, I gotta get out of here. Eddie, I have to go."
"Steve, calm down," Eddie starts. "He doesn't - don't go out the - yep, out the window. There you go. Okay...Bye. Love you!"
Eddie waits two full minutes before he walks out of his bedroom back into the rest of the house and asks, "What the hell, Wayne? You hate my boyfriend?"
"I never said that," Wayne scoffs. "I like the kid. Said he was good for ya. Does that sound like I hate 'em?"
"No," Eddie breaths out. "No, I knew he was making no sense. God, Steve is so weird. I love him, you know?"
"Told him that I loved him," He continues, grinning from behind his hair. "Told him when he was climbing out the window."
"He say it back?"
"No, I don't think he's realized what I said yet. When do you think-"
There's an insistent knock at the door.
Wayne grabs his keys to leave, "Probably about now, I bet."
Steve gets caught with his hand down Eddie’s (metaphorical?) pants, and his dad kicks him out and cuts him off with an ultimatum: he leaves Eddie for good and enrolls at Huntington University in a respectable major and he’ll have money again.
At first, they made it work. Three men squeezed into the one bedroom trailer (with promises to Wayne that they’ll behave when he’s home).
But then Steve can’t find a job. Wayne only brings home so much and Eddie’s mechanic position is only part time.
They don’t have enough money.
So it’s beans and rice for dinner again. Eddie’s begging for more hours at the shop, but Thatcher is giving him all he can afford. He tried to see if another mechanic would hire him for the other hours, but none want to hire him after the murder allegations.
Eddie’s lucky Thatcher was a family friend.
They found out why Steve couldn’t get hired when Wayne tried to pull strings at the plant to get Steve a job.
Richard Harrington had strings to pull and ruined Steve’s name. Nobody would hire him due to Richard’s reach.
Suddenly, they felt the weight of that ultimatum.
Eddie was waiting for the day that Steve couldn’t take another canned meal and accepted his dad’s offer. Eddie’s lived like this as far as he remembers. Off of cheap meat and rice and stretching a dollar for a decent meal.
But Steve didn’t.
Steve grew up with good quality meats and fresh vegetables, along with going out to eat regularly. Eventually, he’s going to miss having a good fulfilling meal over boxed macaroni with powder cheese.
So when he got home and found Steve starting the rice for dinner and a can of spam on the counter, he started to get antsy.
“You ever —“ Eddie trailed off. Steve looked up, eyebrow raised in curiosity. “You ever think about accepting his offer?”
“Whose?” Steve asked, covering the pot of rice. He glanced back at Eddie, eyes wide as realization hit him like cold water. “My dad’s?”
“Yeah,” Eddie said quietly. “It’s just — we keep eating shitty food. It’s all we can get and — we’re just getting by. I just…”
“Oh, baby,” Steve stepped away from the stove, cupping Eddie’s face. “I’d eat beans and rice every day if that meant I got to be with you. Nothing else matters if I don’t get to keep you,” he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “I’d rather be dead than forced to accept his offer. Plus —“ he dropped his hands to hold Eddie’s, giving a gentle squeeze. “I got good news that I was gonna share over dinner.”
“Good news?” Eddie asked, raising his glance to meet Steve’s eyes. Steve beamed with excitement.
“I got a job,” Steve grinned. “It’s not much, but it’s janitorial at the library. A couple hours in the evening.”
“A foot in the door,” Eddie smiled. Steve nodded. “Sweetheart, that’s amazing!”
“It’s not much,” Steve reminded. “But it’s pork chops or Dairy King occasionally.”
“A chuck roast,” Eddie said. “It’s a good omen; that everything’s going to get better.”
Steve smiled. “Yeah,” he nodded. “But can we keep spam and rice in dinner rotations? It’s honestly my favorite now.”
Eddie laughed, pressing a kiss to Steve’s lips. “Of course. Sweetheart. Anything you want.”
A universe where Steve and Eddie meet much much sooner, and are vague friends be it by drugs or being super bored and needing a genuine conversation with someone who gets it (maybe Steve is particularly fed up with his dad one day, and Eddie just listens and is there for him while they get high as hell)
Either way, at one point Steve's letterman jacket goes missing. He thinks that maybe he misplaced it at a party or left it in his locker at school. Tommy makes fun of him for losing it ("HAH! Harrington I thought you loved that thing! How'd you lose it?!" "Shut uuupp, dude!")
He resigns to the fact that he might not see it again, and maybe he can just get a new one.
Then he sees it-
Sleeves cut and suddenly covered in patches, pins, safety clips, and sharpie, the name "Harrington" doodled around with stars and squiggles.
("MUNSON!" Steve watches Eddie nearly jump out of his skin before the boy turns around and starts cackling, running away as Steve chases him to have the item returned. "C'mon! You'll get it replaced, less the King's pockets hath run dry!" )
Steve ends up letting him keep the darn thing, locking away the part of his chest that lurches at seeing his name attached to Eddie.
My 1,000 follower giveaway fic for the wonderful @allsteddie. Thank you so much for entering. It was super fun to do this one. I got almost 7,000 words out of this bad boy.
Also on Ao3
This is based on their own post, which you should totally check out.
------
It didn’t happen on purpose. Wasn’t a choice he necessarily made so much as a natural result of being Steve Harrington, the dumbest guy in the room.
“Do you have to be told everything?”
Yeah, maybe he kind of does.
He always knew he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and he was fine with that. He didn't want to be a nerd, a loser, someone people ignored in the lunch room. Being smart was a social death sentence. Having a nice car, good hair, Levi’s perfectly shrunk to fit and a pretty girl on your arm were the way to go. The easiest path.
Until Nancy Wheeler stole his heart. Until Johnathan Byers knocked his head on straight. Until he opened his god damned eyes and saw his friends for the raging assholes they were.
And then it was monsters and a broken heart and kids that needed looking after and suddenly being the dumbest guy in the room was the worst thing a guy could be. Everyone’s ass was constantly on the line. There was no time for kindergarten-level questions. No time for Steve Harrington to catch up in a room full of geniuses.
So he stopped asking, after a while. Not entirely, just when the groups were big. Especially if Dustin or Nancy had their minds set on something, or if Mike was feeling some kind of way.
His grandma had a saying: “Don’t waste your breath on someone who won’t spare their time.” He didn’t really get it when she was still alive, but he found himself thinking about it when he was feeling particularly bad for himself.
They didn’t want to hear what he said, but maybe he didn’t really want to share with them anymore either.
“Hey, man, budge up.” Group gatherings had become the norm after the last showdown. They used to go their own way, pairing off and convening in small groups in the aftermath of interdimensional horrors, but this time has been different. It had been so human. Something about it made them draw close in ways they hadn’t before.
With Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler out of town for the weekend, it was a no-brainer that they would all convene over the long weekend, people flowing in and out of the door, including Eddie Munson, Steve’s new shadow.
The younger man moved his feet, making room for Eddie to ease himself onto the cushions, resting his cane on the arm of the couch. Steve had been on his own, flipping absently through a magazine as people gathered in the kitchen.
He didn’t want to be “broody,” as Robin put it, but it had started to become suffocating, all that talking. They had been debating the merits of going into town next week, and while the beamer was no doubt going to be one of the vehicles in use, he knew his input wasn’t needed.
He had even been feeling brave when he first got there. Surely, this was a conversation he could participate in. It was just about driving. Steve was good at driving. He drove those snot-nosed kids all around town.
But as soon as he’d opened his mouth, Dustin had said something about “navigational skills” that set his teeth on edge. He’d proven to the little twerp more than once that his directional skills were more than up to par, but he didn’t feel like fighting against that tone today. It wasn’t like it would change his mind.
Nancy gave him one of those tight lipped smiles that meant he wouldn’t find any help in her corner, and Lucas just shrugged, taking another swig from his can of Coke. He rolled his eyes, but took the hint.
“Whatcha got there, Steve-o?” Eddie asked, a slightly shaky arm bringing his hand up to tap on the cover. The muscles were still weak, but he was making good progress. Steve couldn’t help but blush. Sports Illustrated wasn’t exactly high art.
“Nothing much. Just ‘balls in laundry baskets,” he said, calling back to Eddie’s many high school tirades. He expected the other man to laugh and agree, but to his surprise, he didn’t.
“Now, now, now, Stevie. I will have you know that I have recently been educated on the occasional merit of the great sports ball. I wouldn’t be so quick to knock it.” And if that didn’t knock his socks off, nothing would.
And so the night went. Steve talked about sports. Eddie egged him on. And no one asked his opinion on their trip to Indianapolis.
—---
Summer came all at once in Hawkins, just like it did every year. Spring was a short week at the end of May, and then it was all blistering sun and clear skies. Where they used to be spent in the pool or on the shores of Lover’s Lake, the summer of 86’ was spent in cheap lawn chairs sprawled outside the Munson trailer, feet fighting for space in one of three mismatched kiddie pools they dragged outside.
“And so I told her she wasn’t listening to me and she slammed the door in my face. She didn’t even bother to get up! She used her powers! Can you believe that?”
Mike had once again flubbed it with El. They weren’t even dating anymore, but he kept putting his foot in his mouth around her. Alternating between giving her his unconditional support and insinuating what it is he thought she should do with her life. He meant well, but he could be a real idiot sometimes.
Steve bit his tongue, tuning into the conversation happening in the other pool where the girls were pretending the boys didn’t exist.
“Mike is such a mouth breather. He doesn’t get a say in what you do with your time, especially now that you aren’t together.” Max griped, dark glasses hiding milky eyes staring right up at the sun.
“You don’t ever let a man tell you what to do. This is a free country,” Erica chimed in, kicking one of her feet in the direction of the boys.
And all the while Steve didn’t say a word. In his own kiddie pool, Robin and Nancy were getting into a heated argument about something called the Bell Jar, which Steve had next to no knowledge of. It sounded like it was serious, though.
It sounded like something he had no room to speak on.
So he didn’t.
He counted the seconds in his head, even if he knew it was ridiculous. It made him feel like a kid, how much he wanted someone to just look at him, talk to him, see him. Sometimes, before he started middle school and learned that wanting your mom’s attention was for babies, he would hold his breath with his eyes closed in bed, willing his mom to sense that her only son was about to suffocate and come running in to hold him.
One-hundred and ten, one-hundred and eleven, one-hundred and twelve…
Maybe he should try it, just for fun. A little trip down memory lane.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head back.
One, two, three, four…
Still, he couldn’t help but smile at the sounds of his family, of safety, surrounding him. They almost didn’t have this. Years of terror finally come to an end.
Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five…
His swimmer’s lungs made it almost too easy, the burn for oxygen only just starting to tickle his lungs.
Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty-
“ACK, what the hell?” He turned in his seat, almost toppling the cheap thing over as his feet kicked out and his breath let out in one big rush.
Eddie was standing over him, a wicked grin shamelessly taking over his face. He had a cool beer in each hand, which he had just pressed into the back of Steve’s neck.
He pulled up a hot pink chair of his own. They were going for 50 cents at Melvald's, no doubt on sale because of their atrocious color. The other man handed him one of the beers, fingers oddly bereft of rings. Steve couldn’t help but stare.
“Sorry, I couldn't help it,” he said. “What are the twerps up to now?”
—---
DnD nights were their own special kind of hell. If he had become quiet on a normal day, he might as well have been a statue for all he spoke on those nights.
He’d been roped into (told he would be) holding Hellfire since the school shut it down. Dustin wasn’t giving up the fight, not by a long shot, but the group had insisted that they needed a place to host campaigns in the meantime.
Lucas had ultimately been the deciding factor, pulling out the sad puppy eyes that Steve couldn’t say no to. All he had to do was say something about “safe spaces” and “how cool it would be” for Steve to host so his parents would let Erica come too, and he’d had no choice but to agree.
Even if he often wished they’d come up with an alternative.
He just didn’t fit in with the rest of Hellfire. Eddie’s friends were nice enough, but they looked at him like they were expecting him to revert back to the boy he was three years ago. Any plates he handed out were treated with suspicion, like maybe he’d spit in them.
And the kids. Jesus Christ. If he’d thought they’d had attitudes before, it was nothing compared to how they could get on a Hellfire night. Any perceived interruption was shut down swiftly and without remorse, usually with a pointed jab at Steve’s inability to understand the nuances of the game.
He learned early on to make himself scarce, hosting duties notwithstanding.
But today, Eddie was in excellent form, and Steve couldn’t help but be drawn into the dining room. He’d accepted two months ago that what he felt for Eddie was more than friendship, and while it scared him, it wasn't something he wanted to shy away from either. Eddie was like a balm to his soul.
He stood, unseen, in the doorway. Eddie was hunched over, voice low and alluring, drawing everyone in the room into his narrative.
“The battle ebbs, enemies strewn about, but stone slabs have not moved, leaving you lost in the dark.”
“Shit!” Dustin yells, throwing his hands up and leading back, “What the fuck are we supposed to do now? Without the key, thank you, by the way, Sir Galant, we’re stuck!”
The commotion continues, Gareth coming to his own defence and the rest of the party bickering. Eddie is so clearly pleased with himself, leaning back in his chair with steepled hands, watching the chaos he’d created.
He leans back in, making the faint sound of wind through his teeth. Steve instinctively tries to do the same, but he knows it doesn’t have the same effect. The party slowly picks up on the sound, going deathly silent as they lean their heads in close.
“What is that?” Will whispers to the others.
Eddie continues in a low voice, effortlessly commanding the attention of the room. “The soft sound of a breeze tickles the ear.” The party rolls perception checks. “Will the Wise, a soft flash catches the corner of your eyes, leading your gaze up, up, up. A small pinprick of light, a small sliver of light, winks back at you from the high dome of the cave. What will you do?”
The party starts strategizing, shooting ideas back and forth on how to scale the walls. If they could blast through or teleport.
The laugh he lets out is completely by accident. It was just so obvious. It was a trap. How could they not see it?
He doesn’t even realize what he’s done until nine pairs of eyes snap his way.
“What do you want, Steve? This is important and you’re interrupting.” It’s Mike, because of course it is, but in the end, it doesn’t really matter who said it, because they all seem to agree with the sentiment
He should say nothing. He should swallow his tongue and choke on it, just like he had been for the past six months. He should scoff and walk away and pretend like the brush off didn’t burn.
But it was just so obvious, and they couldn’t see it, and he could. This was his chance to get a stupid one up. To show people that he wasn’t as empty in the head as they seemed to think he was.
“Nothing. It’s just that it’s obviously a tr-” And that’s as far as he gets.
“Steve. You’re interrupting a big moment here. Can you just go?” And that would be Dustin. Because of course it is. He’s one of Steve’s favorite people in the world, his brother, and no one can get under his skin like him.
Steve opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.
Everyone is just looking at him. Waiting for his move. Waiting for him to get a clue and shut his mouth for good.
He turns on his heel and walks away. He doesn’t look back, even as some of the kids call out to him, clamoring over themselves to apologize. Even as he hears a “not cool” from Ricky, of all people.
Not even when he hears the scrape of Eddie’s chair on his mom’s prized hardwood floor, the clack of his cane trailing behind him.
“Stevie, hey, hold on a second.” Steve says nothing. There’s nothing to say, not even to Eddie.
He kept walking, picking up the speed. He knew it was a dick move, that Eddie had no hope of keeping up, especially once he hit the stairs, but he needed the easy out. He couldn’t face this right now, the hot heat of humiliation making his skin itch. He didn’t want Eddie’s pity. Not right now.
He closed his bedroom door behind him, sliding down until his ass hit the floor. He pressed his ear against the wood, listening as Eddie yelled up the stairs.
“Steve? Stevie! Fuck!.” The sound of Eddie’s cane banding against the wall like an outraged gentleman in an old-timey movie usually made him smile, but it wasn’t enough this time. It was just another reminder that he’d fucked something up again.
The sound of distant arguing drifted up under his door. He could feel the timber of Eddie’s voice in his chest, hear the faint clattering of game pieces and notebooks being shoved back into bags.
Steve bit his tongue, hard. He wanted to scream. Wanted to throw something. Wanted to ask why things always had to go this way for him?
Every time he opened his mouth, he ruined something.
“I guess you’re just a little screw up like your father.”
“Hang out with you and Eddie, the freak, Muson? Yeah, I’ll pass.”
“Dustin Henderson. Yeah. Curly hair, great hair, small.”
“Let’s just pretend we’re normal teenagers for the night.”
It’s past time for him to take the god damn hint for good.
The house fell silent, and Steve closed his eyes.
—-
It all happened so quickly.
Hellfire nights were Eddie’s sanctuary. His safe space. The one place in his life where he was in complete control. He set the stage, and everyone else danced.
Getting to host in within the pristine walls of the Harrington house just added to the experience. He got the dual pleasure of getting to defile the space with his ‘satanic rituals’ and, more importantly, got to bask in the presence of one of his favorite people in the world.
Eddie was no longer ashamed to admit to himself or any of his friends that he was down bad for the other boy. How could he not be? He’d always been smoking hot, but now he was also sweet, and badass, and smart, and kind. Kinder than Eddie could have imagined in his own unique, exasperated, self-sacrificial way.
One night a week, every week, he got to bask in two of his three favorite things.
He knew his friends weren’t jazzed about the idea of Steve, and he had been starkly aware of the kids' increasing disregard for their once-revered babysitter, but he didn’t think it would result in this.
“Can you just go?
It was sharp enough to cut into his heart from the other side of the table. So pointed. Direct. For the crime of laughing at the wrong moment.
Steve’s face does that complicated thing Eddie has come to understand means he’s biting his tongue and hiding his emotions. It’s an unfortunately common sight these days, the other man biting his tongue bloody. Eddie couldn’t understand.
Well, he could. He could see it. Hear it. Every day. The way their friends, their fucked up little family, treated Steve like the yappy dog no one really wanted around. Hauling him around like it was their burden in life, talking about him like the sound of his voice grated their ears.
It made him burn. He could never take an injustice lying down, it wasn’t in his nature.
He had been a fool to let himself roll over this one time. He should have known better. He’d always had friends, but this was the first big family he had ever been a part of. The idea of keeping everyone happy, going with the flow, had won out in the end.
He eased his conscience by seeking Steve out, not that he could keep himself away if he tried. Steve was smart in ways Eddie wasn’t. He saw life in a way that the people in their group didn’t, for better or for worse. For all their differences, Eddie knew he could never get tired of the other man’s company.
If the party didn’t want to listen, Eddie was more than happy to take their place.
But it wasn’t enough. One bandaid couldn’t hold the damn back forever.
Steve turns on his heel, not saying a word, and Eddie is left to scramble after him. He’s closing in, so damn close, until he hits those damn stairs. Curse stairs. Stairs are his new mortal enemy. He is going to dedicate the rest of his life to replacing stairs world wide and eradicating them from all homes. Starting with this one.
“Steve? Stevie! Fuck!” The best part of having a cane is that it’s an extension of his being. Banging on the base of the stairs feels like saying fuck with his arm. He stares up, sweating a little from the sudden exertion before tuning back in to the commotion he left behind.
“Eddie, come on. Steve will be fine!” Dustin is saying, acting like he hadn’t just humiliated his best friend in front of everyone.
“Dustin! Not cool.” He hears Lucas say, the sound of a hat landing on the floor.
“It’s not even a big deal. Steve will be fine in, like, ten minutes. We can keep going.” Mike says, trying to keep the ball rolling
“Uh, I don’t know, man. That kind of killed the vibe,” Gareth responds.
There is so much noise and so much bullshit. Nonsense. None of it mattered. None of it was about Steve, not really. Not in the way that mattered, and he was so fucking done.
“Shut up! Just shut up!” Silence descends. This is his stage, and he’s going to make these idiots dance.
“Eddie…” Will. Poor Will was caught in the middle with his tender heart and his loyalty to his friends. He’s not Eddie’s target here, but they’re all going to hear it.
“You all,” he pauses, the space filling with anticipation, “are a party of imbecilic barbarians, if I ever met them.” A few protests rise up, but they are cut off with a sharp wave of his hand. It’s not their turn yet. Eddie is always first in the initiative order here.
“When did our heroes become so heartless? Hm? Did the splendor of victory make us above the simple kindness of the everyday? Hollow glory speakers are all I see at this table.” He smacks the wood of the dining table for emphasis.
“What are you-”
“Steve is our friend, and you’ve all been treating him like shit for weeks, months.” The pause invites them to speak, to defend themselves, but they don’t. Just as he planned.
He lowers his voice. Leaving behind the theatrics and letting the raw anger and hurt do all the hard work for him. “When was the last time someone in this room asked Steve a question?” They all look at each other, at a loss.
“When was the last time someone in this room asked Steve how he was doing?” Nothing.
“When was the last time he even tried to talk to you?” No one will look him in the eye.
“When was the last time he opened his mouth to say something and no one in this room told him to shut up?” The silence in the room is absolute. He almost feels bad for how guilty Dustin looks in this moment, but it means his message hit. The kids share furtive looks, and the guys share annoyingly knowing glances. To be fair, this wasn’t really a conversation for them, but it couldn’t have waited. He just wishes it didn’t show his hand so badly.
“You little gremlins have exactly one chance to apologize, and it won’t be right now. Go home. Think of a good apology, and get Nancy and Robin on board too. Don’t contact Steve until I tell you to.” They stare wide eyed and unmoving.
Eddie stamps his cane hard on the floor. “What are you waiting for? Go.” And they do. They all scramble to grab their stuff, murmuring fervently to each other as they go.
Jeff walks up to him, mostly undisturbed by Eddie’s show, too used to his friend’s antics. “We got them. You take care of things here.” He pats his shoulder, kind enough not to do more than smirk at Eddie’s protective display.
“Thanks, man.” He watches distantly as the party finishes cleaning and heads out the door, mind already back upstairs with Steve.
The stairs are just as daunting as they always are, but this is important. He takes them one at a time, hauling himself up with the banister. The muscles in his legs are starting to shake by the time he gets to the top, but he can’t help the tingle of pride that reaching the top brings him.
Breathing deep, he knocks lightly at the door. He can see Steve’s shadow blocking the light under the door. “Hey, Stevie,” he pauses, waiting for some kind of response he knew he wouldn’t get. “I told the kids to fuck off.” He can’t join Steve on the floor, not if he wants to get up, but he leans his forehead on the door.
“Just, screw them, you know? I love the little shits, but ignore them.” He listens to the breathing on the other side, labored like maybe he’d been holding it again. He wonders if Steve realizes that Eddie has noticed his new habit. “You deserve to be heard, Steve, and whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll listen.”
He waits, just in case, but he knows he won’t be getting any kind of answer today. He raps on the door in a silent goodbye, and smiles at the two small knocks he gets in reply.
—---
His phone started to ring less than an hour after Eddie left, but Steve ignored it. He was out of words. Where he used to have to bite his tongue, he now felt almost alarmingly free. He was done, and that was it.
So here he was, a week and a half later, still stuck in the house. Without the job at the radio to keep him occupied and with employment in Hawkins all but stalled until repairs finished, it’s not like he had anything pressing to attend to. This is the first time in his life he was ever truly grateful to be a trust fund kid.
But the food was running out. He was officially out of eggs and his Brita has been in need of a new filter for weeks.
Not wanting to run the risk of running into any of his friends, he decided to take the beemer two towns over instead of the Big Buy. Not that anyone would care. Not a single person had knocked on his door. The calls had all stopped by the second day. It had been a week and three days of just him and his thoughts, no words spoken, even to the walls of his home.
Clearly, everyone was excited to be done with Steve. The kids probably told everyone the good news. Even Robin.
And that one stung the worst. Robin was his best friend. His soulmate. She had never been the problem. She could talk and talk and talk and yes, maybe he wasn’t able to get even half of the mileage out of a conversation as she could, but she listened. She reacted and played off him and maybe they hadn’t been as close as he would have liked these past months, but she was always there for him. It wasn’t her fault she had a girlfriend and college on the horizon, but it was looking more and more like she was taking the opportunity to get rid of him, too.
He drove with the windows down, letting the wind be his voice. Springsteen blasted from the speakers, catching on the air.
He thought of Eddie the entire way.
Eddie had been his safe space, the one person who asked for Steve’s opinion. Who asked how he was doing. Who didn’t look at him like they were waiting for him to put his foot in his mouth the second he walked into the room, pity in their eyes for poor, stupid Steve who was bound to say something that would make everyone’s eyes roll.
His steadfast and unconditional kindness was something Steve didn’t know what to do with, but that he craved like air.
But Eddie hadn’t been back either. No call, no knock at the door, no pigeon on his windowsill.
He opened the door without a sound. Put the groceries in the cupboards silently. Let the TV do the talking after dinner. What was the point? No one was there to listen. No one ever would be.
He went to bed to the sound of his own breathing.
The next day was the same. Wake up. Eat. Watch TV. Clean the same spot as the day before. Try not to feel too sorry for himself. Try to convince himself that he was just being dramatic. That he could open his mouth and garbage, bullshit wouldn’t come falling out.
The gentle sounds of the TV lull him to sleep before he knows it.
Knock, knock.
The two gentle raps at the door are so out of place in his still house that he jumps, landing hard on the floor with a groan. It takes him a moment to blink the sleep from his eyes, long enough that whoever is at the door knocks again, just a little louder.
He debates not answering it. What would be the point, really? Whoever is there will be sorely disappointed in the unspeaking boy who answered the door.
But he also can’t help but hope. It’s been a week and four days since someone reached out. Maybe today is the day. Maybe today someone will come and tell them they miss him. That they noticed he was missing and wanted to check on him.
His hand stalls just above the handle, and then he swings it open.
It’s Eddie, a little sweaty and twitchy, just the way Steve remembers him.
“Hi, Stevie.” He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. It’s Eddie. If he can talk to anybody, it’s Eddie. But he can’t. Eddie looks at him, clearly expecting some kind of response. He swallows, tries again, but nothing.
And there’s the pity. The look everyone is always giving him like he’s too dumb to read how sorry they are for him on their faces. He never wanted to see that look on Eddie.
“Sorry to just show up. I didn’t, I was going to wait, y’know. Give you the full two weeks, but I couldn’t wait anymore. I wanted to check on you.” He looks at him plaintively, shoulders hunched to make him smaller than the younger man in front of him. “But you don’t got to say anything. You mind if I come in, though?” And that, Steve can do.
He opens the door fully, letting the older man in.
Eddie barely takes a step in, and he already feels so much better for it. The stale air of this house that isn’t really his feels lighter, shared between two people. He’s glad Eddie doesn’t hesitate to make himself at home, it means at least some things haven’t changed between them.
He watches Eddie lower himself onto his favorite couch cushion, cane leaning against the armrest like always. The other man pats the seat next to him with the air of a father trying to have a heart to heart with their emotionally distant teenager, which makes him huff a laugh. He wouldn’t have thought anything of it if not for the way Eddie lights up at the sound.
The quiet settles on them uncomfortably.
“Hey, uh, feel free to tell me to fuck off. Or call me a freak, or whatever, but could I,” Eddie’s fidgeting, fingers switching in his lap. “Could I hold your hand?”
It’s so far from anything that he could have imagined Eddie saying in this moment that he jolts, which makes Eddie jolt, which makes this whole awkward situation ten times more awkward. Eddie giggles, high pitched and forced, and starts talking.
“No, nevermind. That was stupid, just uh, pretend I didn’t say that-” Steve doesn’t even realize he's reached out and snatched one of those ringed hands on his own until Eddie stops cold, their clumsy intertwined hands hanging in the air. “Right, okay,” Eddie breathes. “This is nice.”
And then Steve is laughing again. It’s just so easy with Eddie. He has him in stitches before the joke ends. Has him talking before he remembers that he should be biting his tongue. He likes him so much, probably even loves him, he just wishes he wasn’t such a burn out loser whose friends don’t even like him. Then maybe, someday, he could actually tell him.
But he is, and he can’t. He’s just lucky enough that Eddie still seems to care.
“Well, as much as holding the fair skin of the lovely maiden Harrington, I actually came here for a reason. I come bearing gifts, of a sort.” He pulls a stack of papers out of his jacket's inner pocket, so thick it's pushing the limits of the old rubber band around it.
“They’re letters. From the party. Apologies.” He holds them out, but Steve doesn’t take them. He shakes his head. This isn’t what he wanted. More pity. Forced apologies.
He tries to pull his hand away, to retreat. He just knows that Eddie had a hand in this, why else would he be the one delivering the letters? The anger that bubbles in his throat burns. He needs to get away. Now.
But Eddie holds fast, pulling him back in when he tries to run. “Hey, hey. Slow down. I know what you’re thinking but I promise that’s not it.” Steve sits, glaring at the man next to him. He doesn’t look half as chagrined as Steve thinks he should be. “Okay, maybe I did, But!” Steve’s up again, successfully extracting himself to pace in front of the TV.
“But! I didn’t ask them to write the letters! I didn’t! I just…gave them some food for thought. And then Nancy came up with this idea. A letter writing party, or three. They wanted to deliver them themselves, say something to you face to face, but I told them to wait. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”
It doesn’t make him feel better. In fact, it makes him feel worse. If he has anything to offer to the party, it’s his ability to take the hit, any hit, without showing just how bad it hurts. He can’t be this pitiful thing for them to take care of. Won’t survive Eddie treating him like some “get the jock integrated into the nerd group” pet project.
Eddie huffs, throwing his hands up in the air. “Look, would you just read them before you get all defensive and broody? Please?” And Steve’s not broody. He doesn’t brood. And he’s so sure that he doesn’t brood that he’ll prove it by reading those letters like a completely normal non-broody person.
He sits back down, snatching the stack out of his hands with a huff of his own. Eddie could have the decency not to look so smug about it.
He tears open the first envelope, but unfolding it is another thing altogether. He can tell it’s Dustin from the outline of blue ink he can see through the thin, lined notebook paper.
Hey Steve,
Letter writing is becoming more primitive with the digital age on the horizon, as I know I've told you before, but I guess it has its merits. Primarily in the slow organization of my thoughts into clear and concise action items.
Directive one: Acknowledge Guilt
I resent any implication that I have anything approaching an attitude. Mom says I’m a delight, and you know better than to argue with mom. But I also know better than to argue with Max and she says I’m a “butt head” so maybe both things can be true.
The point being, that I am at a developmental stage in which it is natural for me to be feeling self centered, stressed, and lacking forethought. However, I can admit that I haven’t been the best best friend as of late, or the best brother.
He shuffled the papers, moving on to the next one before he could finish Dustin’s.
Heya Steve-O,
This is Robin, you know, your best friend? I know this is supposed to be a letter writing party and I think everyone kind of hoped that having to write would force my brain to slow down but all it’s really doing is making my handwriting worse and you know it’s already not so great.
Anyway, the point is, I’m sorry I haven't been around as much as I should have been. You’re my male sister and it’s my proud job to defend your honor and I haven’t been there to do that. I was going to come over right away but everyone said I should wait and I still don’t have a car and–
The next.
Steve.
I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say here, but Nancy said she was going to read this before she let me submit it and if I didn’t do it ‘right’ then she would tell mom about the snacks under my bed.
The point is, we don’t get along. I don’t like you, you know that, but you’re still a member of this party, and the party needs to stick together. You dated my sister, you were kind of a douche, and I don’t think we’ll ever be best buds. But you also saved us, like, a lot. And you kept coming back to help us even when you and Nancy weren’t together, and Nancy says she’s over you and you’re over her.
Point is, you’re alright.
So many letters, one from everyone.
You’re coming to girls night next time. No arguing.
Max
Hope you feel better dude,
Lucas S
You still owe me. Ice cream. For. Life.
Scoops Troop Forever.
You still matter to me. So much. I’m sorry I’m not always the best at showing it.
Nancy Wheeler.
Letter from everyone in his life. Their entire little gang, even the people Steve wouldn’t have blamed in the slightest, Jonathan, Will, a very disjointed one written by a very high Argyle.
He reads them all, some more than once, the confusion growing alongside the joy. He pinches his nose, refusing to cry. It’s just nice, is all. Really nice. Nicer than he thinks he probably deserves for something ultimately so small.
The shame of being so dramatic still burns, but it can’t overshadow the relief he feels that he’s not being discarded.
Eddie is looking at him with the softest, fondest eyes. It makes his breath hitch.
“They’re really nice,” he says for a lack of anything better. He clears his throat, trying to get rid of the roughness there.
“You deserve nice,” Eddie says, closing the distance between them. He rubs his arms, gently, ringed fingers catching lightly on the hairs there. Steve had missed it, the easy way Eddie reached out for him. He hadn’t even fully realised how much it happened until it stopped cold turkey. “I’m sorry people haven’t been treating you as nicely as you deserve.”
Steve knows it’s a bad idea, that he’ll crave the closeness when Eddie leaves, but he lets himself be coaxed into a firm hug. “It wasn’t even that big of a deal. I know I’m not exactly a riveting conversation partner. It just sucks to constantly be reminded that you’re the dumbest guy in the room.” He mumbles it into Eddie’s shoulder, grumbling more when Eddie pulls back a little, looking at him with those intense, fathomless eyes.
“You listen to me, Steve Harrington.” He says, voice low and serious the same way it was when they were in the Upside Down. “You are brilliant. I love talking to you, maybe more than anyone else in this stupid, wacky world. No one makes me laugh like you do. No one makes me rethink my biases like you, or think about how I treat others, or introduces me to putting Poptarts in the toaster.
Steve laughs, hiding a sniffle. “It’s literally how they’re supposed to be eaten, Eddie. It’s, like, on the box. In the name, even.” He says, making Eddie laugh right along with him.
“You think I’m reading the box? Who does that? Not me!” And then they’re both laughing, holding each other by the elbows in the middle of the Harrington's living room.
“The point is, Steve, that you make me better. You make me smarter, and if any of those gremlins and little shits and little smarty pants actually took the time to see past their inflated ego, they would be too.” Eddie’s smile is so confident, like what he’s saying is the absolute truth. Steve wishes he wouldn’t look at him like that. It makes it so hard not to kiss him.
“Well, I guess if Eddie Munson says it’s true, it must be.” He’s still not convinced, to all the way, but it’s enough to have these letters in his hand. To hear Eddie say it so plainly. That he’s not an idiot, that he’s happy to listen.
Eddie knocks a knuckle into his chin gently. “Now there’s a good boy,” he says.
It’s supposed to be a joke, of course it is, but Jesus Christ, Steve didn’t know his heart rate could spike so suddenly. It’s almost certainly not good for his health. At least he’s in good company. Steve is surprised he’s still standing with the amount of blood pooling in the other man’s face.
“Sorry, that was. Uh, I mean, nice weather we’re having,” Eddie stammers, fingers twitching at Steve’s elbows and then pulling away, and Steve is moving before he even realizes what he’s doing.
Maybe Eddie is right. Maybe Steve isn’t as stupid and dense as people make him feel, because even he can see that none of this is normal. No one acts like this with their straight guy friends, and if there’s even the smallest chance that Eddie feels the same way as him, Steve isn’t going to hesitate. Words might not be his forte, but he’s always been the first to act.
Their first kiss is clumsy, more of a mashing of lips than anything, but judging by the way Eddie pulls him in close, he doesn’t seem to mind.
They pull apart, both breathing heavily like they just ran a marathon rather than sharing a middle school quality kiss in the middle of the day. “Holy shit!” Eddie says, and if he didn’t look so excited, those perfect dimples on full display, he might have been worried, but all he can feel is joy bubbling up in his throat.
“Yeah, holy shit. Was that, uh, okay?” He hammed it up, just a little, tilting his head so he can look up at Eddie through his eyelashes. No one who regretted a kiss would be looking at him like that.
“Okay? Okay, he asks! That was the best kiss of my life. Can we do it again?” God, he’s so adorable. Steve can’t believe he gets to kiss him.
Instead of answering, he just reels him in, running his hand through his perfect, frizzy curls.
There’s still so much for all of them to work through. Steve will need to talk to everyone at some point. He’ll need more time than he’d like before he really starts talking again, and he may never fully feel like he belongs.
But judging by the way Eddie is holding him, kissing him, he’s pretty sure he won’t have to do it alone.
Post season three, Eddie sees Robin Buckley looking a bit banged up, occasionally hollow-eyed, and even more separate from her peers because of the weird energy she's been giving off, and decides to adopt her as one of his sheep.
Robin is having none of this. None.
She likes Eddie just fine, but she is not interested in playing DnD or hanging out with a bunch of smelly boys in a dank room. It's one of the things she likes best about Steve, how fastidious he is. She never has to worry if he's washed his hands after using the bathroom. She once watched Eddief eat funions out of a bag he found on the bleachers.
But Steve is lonely and sad when she's at school. The two of them are still looking for a job that will hire them both, so Steve spends most of the afternoons alone. Eddie skips most of his classes anyway. As far as she's concerned, it's a match made in heaven.
Robin tells Eddie to meet her at the diner after school to make her a character. He's honestly pretty stoked, Robin is cool and he was starting to think she would never join.
He gets there, but she doesn't show. No, instead Eddie looks up to see an overdressed Steve Harrington shimmy into the booth across from him.
Gareth who's on Eddie's ass for MONTHS once he starts dating Steve.
He laughs at him all the time for falling for The Hair. He says Eddie is a poser for falling in love with a jock. He makes a ton of jokes about how Eddie is gonna end up as a miserable suburban housewife.
It's starts out funny, but slowly turns into a real fight between the two of them.
By Dustin's birthday party, they're giving each other the silent treatment.
Cut to the next day: Gareth shows up at Eddie's door pleading for both his forgiveness and his help because he realized last night he was in love with Chrissy The Princess Cheerleader Cunningham.
Steve watches him grovel from behind his coffee mug with a smirk on his face, but he doesn’t dare to tell him that Chrissy called earlier to ask how to woo a metalhead. He's gonna make the nerd work for this.
Steve has been going through the cemetery on his runs for years, has passed by this unkept grave for as long as he can remember, and well. He feels bad for this poor dead guy that no one visits.
He's the last party member left in Hawkins. He gets it.
So the next time he's on a run, he tears up some of the weeds. The time after that, he cleans away the trash. And so on and so forth until the grave looks nice, taken care of.
He chats to the guy sometimes - sometimes this is the only conversation Steve has that day. He tells the guy about his run time, about his students, about his friends and meeting up at Robin's weird uncle's house every couple months because, "Every month was a little excessive, you know? It's, yeah. Quarterly is better and-"
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, shit," Steve startles. "Hi. I'm not trespassing or-"
The stranger that approaches doesn’t look like he works here. His leather jacket, long hair, and handfuls of rings doesn't exactly scream graveyard worker so, "Uhhhhh, oh! Do you know him?"
"Yeah," The guy says slightly amused. "He's my dad. Do you know him?"
"N-no," Steve winced, realizing how weird this is. "His grave was a little overgrown so I cleaned it up and, I don't know. He's a good listener. I’m Steve, by the way."
"Eddie," He says, gesturing to Al Munson's headstone. "That must've been a skill he developed beyond the grave."
"Oh."
"Yeah," Eddie nods. "Too busy hitting women and kids to listen to anyone."
"...Oh."
Steve frowns. He's been telling a total piece of shit about how lonely he is.
"But hey," Eddie perks up. "If you want a real good listen just step a few paces to your right."
Steve looks to his right at the next gravestone. He never really paid jt much mind because it was well kept and well loved. There were always fresh flowers for Elizabeth Munson.
"She got a lot of practice listening to me," Eddie adds. "I think she would like you."
Okay, so he's spent the last couple months talking to this woman's abuser and - "Oh, Jesus. Why am I still here? Let me get out of your hair and-"
"Nah," Eddie says. "Stay. I'm not in town a lot anymore to keep her company. Let me introduce you."
I just think it’s really funny if the moment Steve stops pissing Jonathan off on purpose, Robin starts doing it.
Steve and Jonathan are finally not at each other throats all the time- friendly even - and then here Robin. Walking into the room, sniffling the air, and looking Jonathan in the eyes before saying, “Ew, smells like little bitch in here.”
Jonathan is confused. Steve is amused but a little baffled because like, “Robin, that’s the third time you’ve done that. What’s the deal with you and Jonathan? Did he do something?”
“Why do you think I did something?” Jonathan asks.
“You’re my best friend, Steve,” Robin explains. “My platonic with a capital P soulmate. My other half. My twin sep-“
“Okay.”
“And he beat you up and stole your girlfriend,” She adds. “It’s my goddamn given right not to forgive him on your behalf and since you’re not going to be bitch to him anymore than-“
Steve tells his friends he started seeing someone and they all start talking about how great it is that he’s finally going to therapy and, “…no, I’m seeing someone. Like a person.”
“A hallucination??” Dustin asks. “Guys, it finally happened! He’s has a psychotic break.”
“To date! I’m dating someone!”
“Oh,” Dustin calms. “You’re still going to therapy, right?”
“I never was.”
“Oh.”
Steve watches his shoulders slump. Everybody seems way less interested in this news so, “It’s a guy.”
thinking about that one HC of eddie being originally from appalachia before moving to hawkins and steve going absolutely feral every time the accent slips out, so here’s a tiny ficlet about steve realizing it’s basically his kryptonite
They’re in the horror aisle at Family Video, doing what they always do when it’s dead: finding the worst covers known to man.
Robin holds one up that looks like it was drawn in crayon. “This one,” she announces, “is a crime.”
Eddie barks out a laugh. “Lord, have mercy,” he says, and it rolls out of him warm and thick, a little different than usual.
Steve freezes.
He’s heard Eddie talk a million times. Ranting, scheming, flirting, yelling over amps. But this is… softer. Rounder. It hits his ears and lights up some stupid part of his brain like, oh. Oh, that’s new.
“Okay, where the hell did that come from?” Steve blurts.
Eddie blinks. “What?”
“That.” Steve points at him like he’s just witnessed a crime. “You sounded like, like a whole other guy for a second.”
Color crawls up Eddie’s neck. He shrugs one shoulder, all defensive and twitchy. “Nowhere. Hush.”
“No.” Steve is immediately, deeply annoying about it. “Absolutely not. Say it again.”
“Not a chance, Harrington.” Eddie shoves a VHS into his chest. “Go alphabetize something.”
“Robin,” Steve whines, turning on her like a traitor witness. “Did you hear that? He did a voice.”
“Oh, yeah,” she says, gleeful. “Country boy jumped out.”
Eddie groans, shoving his hair back. “I hate both of you,” he lies, and stalks off down the aisle.
Steve follows, grinning, tossing movies back on the shelf. “C’mon, just one more ‘Lord, have mercy.’ Just for me. Just a little one.”
“Drop it, Steve.”
He does not drop it.
By the time they close up, Steve’s said “Lord, have mercy” in three different terrible impressions, and Eddie’s told him to shut up in at least five creative ways. The accent doesn’t come back, though, and Steve goes home weirdly, stupidly disappointed about it.
—————————-
Later, they’re at the trailer, door propped open to let in the night air. Some crappy late-night talk show mumbles on the TV, volume low. They’re half lying, half sliding off the couch, feet tangled on the coffee table.
Eddie’s flipping through a battered magazine. Steve’s not even pretending to do anything else; he’s just watching him.
“You’re staring,” Eddie says without looking up.
“You’re avoiding,” Steve shoots back. “Say it again.”
Eddie drops the magazine onto his face for a second like he wishes for death. “You are so persistent.”
“Yes,” Steve says. “I am. We’ve established this.”
Eddie peels the magazine away and eyes him. Steve is sprawled out, hair a mess, socked toes nudging his thigh. He looks… annoyingly sincere.
“One word,” Steve says. “One. Then I’ll shut up forever.”
“Liar.”
“Okay, I’ll shut up for, like, ten minutes.”
Eddie snorts. He should say no. Dig his heels in. But there’s this warm, fizzy feeling in his chest that he doesn’t want to look at too closely, and Steve’s looking at him like he hung the damn moon.
“You’re real persistent, ain’t you, sweetheart?” Eddie says finally, letting it come out the way it wants to, vowels soft, consonants a little lazier, the word sweetheart wrapped up in the drawl he’s been choking down for years.
Steve’s brain short-circuits.
It’s like someone unplugged and replugged him in a different outlet. His stomach does this weird swoop. His face goes hot. Something about the sound of it, about Eddie saying sweetheart like that, all slow and easy, hits directly behind his ribs.
“Oh,” Steve says, a little breathless.
Eddie raises an eyebrow, already smirking. “There. You happy now?”
“No,” Steve says, and then he’s moving before he really decides to, leaning over the tiny space between them.
He kisses him.
It’s not planned. It’s not smooth. He just goes on impulse, mouth landing on Eddie’s with a soft, shocked sound like he surprised himself. His hand catches on Eddie’s shirt, fingers fisting in the worn fabric without thinking.
Eddie makes a tiny noise, half gasp, half laugh, and kisses back on instinct, then pulls away just enough to see Steve’s face. Steve’s flushed, wide-eyed, looking at him like he just handed over the Holy Grail.
There’s a beat where Eddie could pretend he doesn’t know exactly what just happened. Then he feels the grin pull at his mouth, slow and sharp.
“Oh, yeah,” he says, letting the vowels go loose on purpose now. “I can work with this.”
Steve swallows. “Eddie.”
Eddie leans in again, close enough that Steve can feel his breath, and drops it low, sweet, a little smug. “Watch me, darlin’.”
Steve practically launches himself into the next kiss, and that’s when Eddie realizes he’s just unlocked the most unfair advantage in the world.
Season 5 au where eddie lives. Jonathan still believes Steve is trying to steal Nancy so he's pretty hostile and cold towards him but due to this, he starts to pay more attention to Steve and thus realizes, nope, he was wrong. Steve isn't in love with Nancy but in love.... with Eddie???
And it sort of comes out of his mouth before he can stop himself, his only saving grace is that he and steve are alone when the realization hits, making them the only witness to this humiliation.
But Steve doesn't deny it, which shocks Jonathan even further because this was the last thing he had expected from Steve the hair Harrington. Steve was queer. Was currently crushing on a man. Eddie Munson, no less.
It was all bizarre.
They have a reluctant to heart about it, Steve revealing the only person who knew was Robin and no one else, not Nancy, not Dustin, and especially not Eddie.
And Jonathan gets it but also... he wonders out loud went not tell him. It was kind of an open secret that Eddie more than likely leaned that way so Steve probably had a chance if he confessed. But Steve shuts that down. Just because Eddie might be into men, does not mean he would be into Steve. Plus, Steve’s feelings run deeper than a crush and he wouldn't want to make things awkward or unfair with Eddie just because Steve’s stupid heart can't control himself.
The more Steve talks, the more Jonathan feels kind of bad for the guy. He starts to realize the Steve he had built up in his head was not real. He wasn't an arrogant muscle head, a cocky, entitled rich boy.
He was an insecure, queer outcast. Just like the rest of them.
And he can't help but think about Will. He can't tell him about this, of course... but how awesome would it be if Will had a gay couple to look up to? A man like Steve, even. A guy everyone saw as the epitome of masculinity and strength.
So, without telling Steve, he quietly takes Robin aside and tells her his plan.
"I know Steve likes Eddie. I want to get them together. "
".... you? Are gonna wing man Steve? With Eddie??"
"No, we are going to wing man Steve. With Eddie."
"Alright, fuck it. Call me cupid."
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