Eddie did not mean to cause a scandal at this year’s Olympics, but that’s the life he’s living. Hiding from the public eye trying to recover from a nervous breakdown, his best friend Chrissy proposes a beginners yoga class, to Eddie’s behest.
That’s where Eddie meets Stevie, dorky jock-boy and yoga practitioner.
Can Eddie move past his bitterness and open up, or is their love doomed to fail before it can even start?
Or: Eddie is a burnt out audhd figure skater and Steve is a yoga teacher.
Words: 2035, Chapters: 1/6, Language: English
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Chrissy Cunningham
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Additional Tags: Yoga, Figure Skater Eddie Munson, Gay Eddie Munson, Gay Disaster Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, chrissy and Nancy and Robin are polyamorous, Autistic Eddie Munson, Confident Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Needs a Hug, mental health, Mention of OCs - Freeform, Modern Era, AU, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Unreliable Narrator
A lot of steddie writers when writing about Steve's parents usually make them emotionally abusive and not physically abusive or they make them hit him only where it can't be seen, which sometimes doesnt work considering he was on the swim team, and I feel like yall are completely ignoring a much easier solution: stress positions
Imagine the party somehow finding out that that's how Steve was punished as a kid, like he brings it up nonchalantly
Ooooh, I've been looking for something new to write about... Warning for description of injuries, just in case
---------
"You really gotta be more careful, Harrington, Jesus..."
"He wouldn't have had to be if he listened to himself for once-"
"Thought the joke was that I was the mom of the group, Max?"
"Nah, petition to elect someone else?"
Half the living room raises their hands, which Steve responds to with an annoyed groan and rolled eyes. It turns his body a little too far, and he winces at the hydrogen peroxide against his palm.
"Told you, you need to be more careful," Eddie chastises softly, waiting for Steve to settle again before returning to his hands.
The Party had come back to the old Munson trailer - as broken and disheveled as it is - to get the last of their surviving things. Thanks to the amazing government that's been breathing down their necks these past 3 months, they've hardly been able to help Wayne clear through the mess the Upside Down left. The kids have been tackling Eddie's room, while the others were sifting through the kitchen and living room. So long in the Summer sun left them exhausted, but by the end, all that was left was the pullout couch, which Wayne conceded to sell. Steve, Wayne, Jonathan, and Hopper took on the challenge of getting it out.
And for all of his talk and worry, Steve completely missed the last step of the trailer while getting the damn thing out. Wayne caught the couch on their end, while Steve's hands and knees caught him on the sharp gravel.
Now he's stuck sitting on the counter getting patched up by Eddie. At his insistence too, despite his lack of medical expertise. 'I've been sitting around all day because of these damn bites, this is at least something to do.'
And something for Steve's nerves to focus on. Seriously, how is he supposed to feel the sting of gravel embedded in his skin when Eddie's hands (though gloved, both thankfully and a little unfortunately) are carefully picking them out? How is he supposed to notice the blood dripping down his legs when Eddie's standing right between them all sweet and worried?
What a day for that crush to flair up, Jesus fuck-
"Max does have a point though. For someone so worried about falling down the stairs, you made a pretty good example of doing exactly that," Robin jokes from the other side of the living room. Seeing Steve with blood coming out of him still gets her a little queasy, so it's a relief to hear her joking again.
"Yeah yeah, I get it already," Steve complains over his shoulder. Eddie finishes cleaning and bandaging his hands, so he steps back to focus on his knees.
The first little stone Eddie picks out releases a sharp pinch down Steve's shin, which he flinches at. "Didn't think this would hurt this much, though."
Eddie snorts, looks up through his lashes at Steve. Down, brain, goddamm it. "What, you on your knees often, big boy?" he jokes through a cheeky little grin.
"More than you, that's for sure," Steve jokes back, with his own easy smile. Shoves at Eddie's shoulder, careful to do so with the back of his wrist so as not to jostle Eddie's work. "Seriously though, I got in trouble a lot as a kid. Figured all the punishments had toughened me up a little bit."
He says it lightly, genuinely. It's easy to, the things he went through growing up not even holding a matchstick to the Upside Down. Eddie, though, immediately glances up, eyes full of concern. "What's that supposed to mean?" he snaps.
Steve flinches a little at the pure anger in Eddie's tone. He really didn't think it was that serious. "Y-Yeah, you know. Get home late, kneel in the corner. Skip swimming practice, kneel in the corner. It's just that classic punishment parents have-"
"Wait wait wait, just. Pause," Nancy orders, walking around the counter into Steve's sight line. Standing right beside an Eddie who's still carefully working but is visibly fuming. "That's not something you can just call classic, Steve."
They both look enraged at hearing this, which just confuses the hell out of Steve. He knows it shows too, his face twisting up. "What? It's not like it's Upside Down shit, why are you making such a big deal out of it-"
"This isn't a comparable situation, Harrington, Christ alive," Hopper swears from the living room. Steve chances a look behind him as Eddie's hands move away, and the entire Party is staring him down like he's insane.
"Don't you remember when you tried to wheel me through your house and apologized for how bumpy it all was?" Max suddenly pipes up. "You told me it's been like that for years."
Eddie growls on a forced exhale, and Steve has to turn back around. Not only to see the pinched expression of rage on Eddie's face, but to hide his shiver and blush from the others. Down, I said. "Please tell me that's all they did," Eddie demands with a scowl, his hands still softly bandaging the last marks on Steve's kneecaps.
"Uh..." Even though Steve has to fight through the sluggishness Eddie's goddamn voice put him in, he probably wouldn't be saying anything anyway. Now that they've brought it to his attention, it all does seem a bit cruel in hindsight. He would be left there for hours, barely able to squeeze in a few minutes of rest before he was caught. When he didn't clean his room on time, his parents would make him kneel in a pile of all the dust and trash, denting his skin for days. And maybe swimming training shouldn't involve holding himself underwater against the pool wall, hands scabbed by the rough tile and feet unable to kick without fear of hitting the sides.
Eddie sighs, barely contained anger in the curl of his lip. "Alright, folks, new petition." He leans into the counter outside Steve's hips, tilting forward to look into the living room over Steve's shoulder and god fucking dammit, DOWN Harrington! "Petition to get Steve some better fucking parents?"
Steve can't even come back to himself fast enough to ask what the fuck before he hears Dustin and El scream, "Dibs!!" simultaneously. Then they're getting into a louder than expected argument about who gets to have Steve as an adopted brother ("My mom's been going crazy for Steve, she'd kill to get him as her son!" "Steve is already like a brother to me and Jonathan!" "At least he'll be used to my long 'H' name!" "He can be proud to be a Hopper!")
Then Eddie's leaning away again and patting Steve on the knee before shuffling back over to the living room. Nancy nods approvingly as Eddie walks by, but she's looking at Steve's probably still flabbergasted expression while she does.
Steve's left on the counter alone in the kitchen; the sharp smell of hydrogen peroxide around him, with hands bandaged way more carefully than was really necessary, and his signature on an imaginary petition.
"...and then he said the punishment was 'classic'. Classic!"
"He said it like it was normal. I do not like Steve's Papa."
Jonathan is sitting on the least saggy end of the couch, listening to Will and El talking over one another about what they'd heard at Eddie's place.
He can feel his shoulders and neck bunching up, the urge to run, hide, protect rising up his throat 'til he's tensing his legs, ready to leap-
"Jonathan?"
He jumps. He can't help it. Shit, I'm supposed to cover that, everything's supposed to be okay-
"Jonathan!"
He slams back into his body to be met with Will's worried face about three inches from his own.
"Sorry. Sorry, Will. I'm okay, I just spaced out there for a second."
Will's expression turns skeptical.
"You were staring straight ahead, breathing really fast."
El chimes in (helpfully), "It looked like you were going to run."
He flicks his eyes to the left. Mom is standing in the doorway, dishcloth in hand, pale but determined.
"I-"
"-let's talk about this another time, huh? It's late, and you two have chores to do tomorrow."
"But mom-"
Gently but firmly, she says, "Not right now, sweetie. I don't think Jonathan wants to talk about this tonight, okay?"
Will and El look at each other, a mixture of disgruntlement and uncertainty warring on their features.
"I'm okay, I promise. It just...brought me up short. It's okay."
Will turns away, still not entirely satisfied but at least not looking actively worried. Better than nothing.
Mom sets the dishcloth down, and comes to sit next to him.
"Mom, I-"
"You're not okay, sweetie. You don't have to be okay any more, you know?"
Intellectually, he does. They'd had a long talk, post-Battle, about what he'd been keeping inside and how to help him live like a real kid, so he knows he doesn't have to keep up the facade now. But his body hasn't gotten the message yet, still tensing and protecting, locking away.
He takes a breath.
"I know that in my head, just...not in here yet," he says, indicating his chest.
Her face falls a little, and she pulls him into a deep hug. He lets himself go, tucking his head under her chin and feeling her warmth leaching into his bones.
She says it into his hair, but he still hears it too loud.
"I know Lonnie used to punish you like that, when I wasn't around. I tried to stop him, tried telling your teachers, the sherriff, anyone I could find, but he used to tell them I was just being hysterical."
He blinks up at her, momentarily astounded.
"You tried to get them to stop him?"
"Of course I did," she murmurs sadly. "Not enough, or not strongly enough. I'm sorry I didn't protect you honey."
"You couldn't," bursts out of him in a passion. "He told them all lies, and then they were stupid or selfish enough to believe them because it was easier than fucking doing something about it. It was easier for them to believe we-I deserved it."
The tears are falling before he can stop them.
"I didn't deserve it, though, mom. Did I?"
Her voice is just as tremulous as his when she answers, but with a steel edge behind.
"No. You never deserved anything of what he gave you. Not the evil words, or the doubt, or the fucking rabbit, or the punishments. Even if you'd been the naughtiest kid in Hawkins, you still wouldn't have deserved anything like that."
He opens his mouth, and the word comes out as a voiceless croak, so he tries again.
"I-He-"
She waits for him.
"He used to. Um."
But she's his mom. She can only wait for so long. He loves and cringes at her curiosity in equal measure sometimes.
"He used to what, sweetie?"
"It wasn't just kneeling in the corner, or standing outside when it was cold or dark...he used to, um, hit me sometimes. When you had to work."
She stiffens above him, face blanching.
"He what?"
"A backhand, mostly. Or he'd make me go out and cut a switch from the willow out back."
"How many times did this happen?"
"I, uh, don't remember."
"You don't remember, or you lost count?"
His silence is confirmation enough.
Her face is thunder when he meets her gaze.
She hasn't been this angry since the Lab. Oh shit.
"That bastard. That rat-faced, soulless, drunk-ass bastard."
He snorts as he wipes the tears from his eyes.
"What, you like rat-faced?"
"Heh, yeah."
They laugh and cry for a few seconds, and she squeezes him tight. It feels good.
Then she turns her head and softly calls, "Jim?"
His stomach drops. He'd forgotten Jim was home.
What are they going to do? What if Lonnie comes back angry and goes for Will? What if-
"Hey, breathe slowly for me sweetie. It's okay. I'm just asking Jim what we can do now."
He turns toward the back of the sofa, and Jim is standing in the doorway from the den looking soft and rumpled, newspaper in hand.
"Whaddya need?" is what he says.
"Turns out Lonnie was worse than we thought."
Don't make me say it again. Please don't make me say it again.
"This come from what the kids heard at Munson's?"
He nods miserably.
Jim's face softens impossibly further.
"I'm guessing there was more to it than kneeling on concrete, huh kid?"
He averts his eyes and nods.
"Then the choice is yours, since you're an adult. Statute of limitations for child abuse is 10 years in the state of Indiana, so for anything that happened after you turned 12 you could press charges. Or you could apply to have him under a Civil Protection Order to stop him coming within a certain distance of you and the rest of the family. Or," and this time his smile turns feral, "you could say that you'd like him to get an informal warning."
Jonathan raises his eyebrow.
"What would the, uh, informal warning involve?"
"Me, Wayne, Joe Sprauve, Jimmy Yelland and a certain Nancy Wheeler go 'round there and remind him of the consequences of ever touching any of you again. With prejudice."
Wait, what?
"You mean, threaten him?"
He waves his hand.
"No violence, don't worry. More of a gentle reminder that we all have gun licenses and three of us are owed a favour by the United States Department of Energy."
"Huh."
Another thought occurs to him.
"Wait. Wayne? As in Mr Munson?"
"Yeah. Back when Eddie first came to him, it was because he had to get away from his dad. Wayne's got strong opinions on how not to treat a kid."
That makes...a lot of sense, given what he's learned about Eddie since. Huh.
"Can we, uh. Table that gentle reminder in case we need it?"
He looks up with a little smile at the corner of his mouth.
@psychotic-nonsense Eee I'm so glad you liked it :D
Because I love Wayne to bits, here's a very short postscript.
My headcanon, stolen from other, better writers, is that he's originally from Appalachia. I also headcanon that he and Jim and some of the other guys in Hawkins would have been in the Army in Vietnam with at least some crossover, given that working-class young men and young men of colour were more likely to be conscripted in the early years of the war, before the draft lottery became a thing in 1969.
Because of this, I also headcanon that Wayne and Jim served together for at least part of their time in 'Nam, as would Benny, and Joe Sprauve (Jeff-From-The-Hellfire-Club's dad). Lonnie Byers skipped the draft because he was a wily so-and-so (not for any good political reasons); Ted Wheeler was declared not fit to serve in the early years of the war through something like flat feet; and Charles Sinclair is a good 7-10 years younger than Jim and Wayne, so he would have been too young to be drafted, and in pharmacy school by '69 when the lottery came into force.
(This also explains why they occasionally play mildly illegal poker together...)
I think too much about this stuff.
CW: oblique discussion of mildly threatening a guy who deserves it (Lonnie Byers is a ****)
__________
The newly installed 'phone rings just as he gets in the door.
Sighing, he throws himself back into the chair and picks it up.
Not even enough time to get his damn workboots off. Don't nobody in this town have the patience to wait until after 6.30pm? Think they had ants in their britches-
"This is Wayne Munson speaking."
"Wayne, it's Jim Hopper."
He smiles a little, despite himself. Good to have him back.
"Jim, what can I do yer for?"
"Did Eddie fill you in on the Harrington conversation yet?"
He's pretty sure Jim can hear the way his face darkens through the receiver.
"He sure did. Lord knows if looks could kill Bobby Harrington'd be dead on the shore of whatever Cape Cod house he's at."
Jim snorts softly on the other end.
"Pretty sure he'd die if he heard us call 'im Bobby, too."
A humourless chuckle works its way up his throat.
"Good."
"The kids mentioned it here, too. Some recon came up after they'd gone to bed. From Jonathan."
Aw, shit. The last kid in the world to deserve Lonnie Byers for a father.
"His old man even more of an excuse for a parent than we thought?"
A heavy sigh.
"Yeup. Between you and me and Joy, Lonnie whupped him. Kid doesn't even remember how often."
"Jesus H..."
"So we were thinkin' that if he ever wanted it, we could give ol' Laurence a visit. Just to set some rules in place."
Huh. Right on.
"Sounds sensible to me. Would that be you 'n me and young Ms Wheeler? Hear she's a very handy shot."
"She is that. Us, Joe Sprauve, and Jimmy."
The bassist's dad. Good guy. Ex-Ranger too.
"Nice picks. Y'ever need me, call. Best do it in the evenin' though, I'm on the day shift now."
He swears there's an apology in Jim's tone when he says, "You got it, Win. Beers are on me next time."
Robin is the first person to know things about Steve without him telling her. She literally just notices things and it catches him off-guard every single time.
One time he was at her house and her mom asked if he was staying for dinner. Robin answered that he was but, “Don’t put green onions in the food. He doesn’t like those.”
He asked her how she knew that because he’s never said anything about it, and she was like, “You literally pick them out of your food every time.”
She made tea exactly how he likes it when he had strep throat. Always buys him sour gummy worms even though he’s never said they were his favorite. Reads out loud on days his dyslexia feels worse without him ever mentioning he even has dyslexia.
She remembers his birthday. He’s never even told her when his birthday is.
“Be real with me, Robin,” Steve says one day. “Are you psychic? How do you know all this stuff about me that I’ve never brought up.”
“I noticed it?” She replies. “You’re my best friend. I notice things about you. You do the same for me all the time.”
“Yeah, but that’s different.”
“How??”
Because no one has ever done that before, he thinks but doesn’t say. Because, “I don’t know. It just is.”
HI!!!! If you’re a fan of any of my fanfics or even just my writing style, I’m pleased to announce that I am opening commissions!
Prices start at 5$ for a drabble and increase with word count
I’m disabled and unable to work so having a form of income would be awesome! I will continue to post my own fics but this is just to try and make a little money
✧ info: eddie is transmasc in this btw ✧ cw: transphobia alluded to
“steve, you’re being mean” eddie says softly, tears starting to well in his eyes as he gazes at steve’s earnest expression.
steve frowns, expression morphing to resemble a kicked puppy.
“i’m being honest eds, i like you, i want to be with you” steve says, pleading with eddie to believe him.
eddie sniffs harshly with a frown, shaking his head, “you don’t mean that” he insists.
“you don’t get to decide that for me!” steve argues back, arms crossing over his chest from where he stands in the entrance of eddie’s room.
eddie sniffles, tears trailing down his cheeks, “i’m not a girl.” eddie insists, starting to shake softly.
steve frowns in confusion, “i know that.” he responds slowly.
eddie shakes his head harshly, “no, you don’t” eddie firmly states, even though his voice shakes.
“what- eddie what are you talking about?” steve asks confused.
“i’m not a girl!” he cries out, chest heaving, “you’ve said you’re straight for the longest time, you only date girls, and i’m not one, you- you can’t c-come in here and say you li-like me when everyone you’ve dated in the past is a girl!” eddie laughs sadly.
steve’s expression softens, understanding flooding through his system.
“hey,” he coos soothingly as if eddie’s an injured animal, lashing out because it’s the only way he knows how.
“baby i know you’re not a girl, you’re a boy, my handsome boy yeah?” steve says softly, arms reaching out to hold eddie, waiting for eddie to initiate the contact.
eddie nods shakily, “im not a girl” he repeats to himself and steve nods in tandem.
“not a girl” he agrees, before eddie launches himself into steve’s arms, steve immediately wrapping the older boy in a tight hug.
“im sorry,” eddie sniffles harshly into steve’s chest as he tries to bury himself inside steve’s rib cage.
steve just tsks softly, “nothing to be sorry for eds, you’re perfect just the way you are” steve insists softly.
eddie just sniffs in response, squeezing steve in thanks.
he pulls back slowly, eyes red rimmed and nose snotty and steve truly believes that eddie is the most perfect man he’s ever seen.
“you like me?” eddie croaks out, eyes shining.
steve lets a smile slip, nodding emphatically, “yeah honey, i like you” he says.
eddie blows out a breath, “you’re not fucking with me right?” eddie checks and steve huffs a small laugh.
shaking his head, he replies completely serious, “im not fucking with you, i’m head over heels for you actually” he confesses
eddie flushes, looking somewhat put out by the honesty in steve’s tone.
he nods quickly, “well-yeah! yeah, okay.” eddie says dazedly.
“i uh, i like you too” eddie stammers, turning shy and steve is enamored.
“yeah?” he breathes out happily.
eddie nods shyly.
steve giggles happily, arms still encasing eddie in front of him.
“can i kiss you?” steve asks softly and eddie pauses, shaking his head a little softly.
“okay” steve agrees immediately and eddie smiles then, a small toothy grin that has steve’s heart fluttering.
instead, he brings eddie into his chest, squeezes him tightly, mindful of his scars from the demobats before letting go.
they spend the rest of the day lazing around, watching old films and when steve asks again, if he can kiss eddie.
he’s awarded with a small shy nod and the press of chapped lips to his own.
