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flowercrowngods · 1 year

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In which Eddie likes words that are pretty or funky or weird, and Steve goes on a treasure hunt for Good Words after learning that they make Eddie happy. They are utterly in love.

🤍 also on ao3

Eddie, with his bright eyes and brighter mind, has opened Steve’s eyes to a great many things. Steve just never anticipated that words would one day be included in that.

It starts with his name. They’re hanging out at Eddie’s and Wayne’s new place, and his boyfriend is pouring over something — Steve can’t quite tell if he’s doing school work or working on his DnD campaign — when Steve hears it.

“Stevie.”

He looks up to see what Eddie wants, if he needs anything or if he wants to run something by him, ask for a different word, the time, anything. But Eddie isn’t looking at him.

Steve frowns slightly and takes to watching his boyfriend instead of turning back to the magazine he’s been reading. Eddie is more interesting anyway, even when nothing’s happening. And, well, he’s right there for Steve to look at. How the hell is he supposed not to watch the way the light catches in those pretty curls and makes them shimmer, thanks to the new conditioner Steve bought him last week.

Eddie is beautiful. So Steve watches.

And then he says it again, quietly, as if testing how the word feels on his tongue. “Stevie. Steve. Stevie. Hmm.”

Eddie doesn’t even seem to be aware of it, and it makes Steve smile, leaning back into the armrest of the couch, his head against the backrest, his view of Eddie unobstructed and perfect. He just wishes he could see his face, but there is a curtain of hair that sort of prevents that.

“Stevie.”

It’s quiet, somewhere between contemplative and certain, playful and serious. Steve has absolutely no idea what’s happening, but he likes the way Eddie says his name.

After a while, he can’t hold back on the affectionate amusement anymore and gently calls for Eddie’s attention. “Are you just saying my name?”

And when Eddie looks up, he almost looks like a little kid that has been caught trying to sneak into a candy shop even though his parents said no.

“Uh.” He leans back slightly, his pencil landing on the table and Steve follows it with his eyes, when—

His smile grows, and so does this fondness inside his chest, the affection, the want and need to go over there and wrap Eddie in the tightest, longest, most intimate hug and never let go.

“Babe, are you writing my name, too?”

He knows he sounds terribly besotted — because he is. All of that is extremely endearing.

Eddie, seeing that Steve isn’t mad or annoyed or demanding an explanation, relaxes immediately and shoots Steve one of his shy smiles. The ones that are for Steve’s eyes only.

“Yeah? I mean, it’s a good name, Stevie, what can I say?” And then, with a different smile, his lips form the word again. “Stevie.” The smile grows, like it just makes him really happy to say it like that.

“Hey, if it makes you happy, don’t let me stop you.”

Eddie chews on his lip for a moment, not looking away from Steve, before he shrugs very slowly. “It does.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like it when words end on that ‘ie’ sound, y’know? I’m not even sure why I like it, but. Steve just feels too short, too crass, too… Too King Steve, if you know what I mean. Adding that extra syllable makes it feel more complete, more rounded, more… I don’t know, it’s just better like this. Stevie. You’re not Steve, you’re Stevie, because those feel like very different names to me.”

Eddie shrugs again and then looks at the paper, huffing a laugh and nudging it with his pencil, smile still in place, though it’s a bit sheepish now.

“And then sometimes when I like a word, or when I’ve made it better, I have to write it down. Or, don’t have to. But I want to, and it’s fun. Sometimes it makes me feel very accomplished afterwards.” He chuckles, scratching at the light stubble on his chin. “It’s a bit silly, I know.”

Steve has been listening with rapt attention, soaking up every new detail about this boy that he likes so much, only to like him even more in the end.

But he gets up at that last point Eddie makes and walks over until he’s standing between his legs. His hands find their way into Eddie’s hair where he’s tucking it behind his ear, caressing his cheeks, making Eddie look up at him with those bright, trusting, vulnerable eyes.

“Hey,” he murmurs, hoping that Eddie doesn’t feel ridiculed or exposed just because Steve can’t ever stop being so damn emotional about him. “Eddie. We’ve been through hell and back. Fuck, we’ve been to hell and back. It’s kind of a miracle we’re still alive, okay, so, frankly, if saying my name like that makes you a little happy because it feels right, I am not going to judge you. I’m not asking you to stop. In fact, it’s kinda cute.”

Eddie flushes and tries to hide his face, but Steve keeps him where he is and catches his lips in a tender kiss, then his nose, his forehead, his temple.

“And so what if it’s a bit silly or whatever! You’re right, actually,”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to look surprised. “How do you mean?”

“It does sound better like that, the way you say it. Nicer. I like it. So don’t stop on my account, yeah?”

The surprise melts away and leaves in its wake something softer, something tender, something more. More than relief and understanding and affection.

“Okay, Stevie,” Eddie says, still looking up at him with those big, brown eyes, illuminated by the desk light, and Steve can’t quite catch his breath.

So he steals Eddie’s instead when he leans in for another kiss. Slow, careful, because something has changed between them. And it’s a good something, that’s for sure.

Over the next few days, Steve realises that Eddie refuses to call him anything but Stevie for a while. No pet names, no exaggerated made-up terms of endearment, nothing. And he loves it. Loves seeing the small, shy smile on Eddie’s lips every time, loves the way his own heart skips, because he’s never been Stevie.

He never got to be Stevie. It was Steven for his parents, Steve for school, King Steve for high school, and Dingus for Robin. This new name, handed to him on a satin pillow of trust and affection, brings something new to him, something softer. It makes him believe, hope, that he could be something softer, too. Soft because that’s what Eddie sees in him, because Eddie believes in him, because Eddie makes him all of that and more.

Because Eddie makes him Stevie.

And he thinks he’s falling in love with that boy.

One night, as they’re holding each other, trying not to fall asleep because the night is fleeting and they barely saw each other today, Eddie refers back to that day a while back.

“Y’know, I think the whole… Ordeal has done quite a number on me.”

Steve freezes. They don’t usually do this before falling asleep, they know better than to challenge the nightmares like that, but he’s sure Eddie has a point with this, so he waits for it.

“The almost dying part, or…?”

“Maybe, but actually just the whole thing. Because during D&D today, I… Or, well, not during DnD, because nothing can break the Dungeon Master, thank God! But before and after, it’s like I’d forgotten how to talk again.”

Steve blinks. Eddie, forgetting how to talk? Eddie who’s always rambling, always muttering something or other, always keeping the conversation going even when there’s none to be had — forgetting how to talk? Again? That’s what trips up Steve the most, so he finds himself asking.

“Again?”

Eddie shifts in his arms, rolls Steve onto his back and crawls on top of him, his head on Steve’s chest, hands still finding his and drawing patterns on his palm.

“When I was a boy, I was… Well, let’s say, I didn’t quite understand how basic communication worked, and no one really bothered to teach me. I’d just repeat words, repeat questions, entire sentences without really getting my point across, y’know? Like, I knew the words a lot of the time, but connecting everything was a bit overwhelming. It got better in time, I had a pretty great teacher, too, and then learned to just. Mask it. I’d be the crazy guy, sure, the one who’s not making sense when you ask him a simple question, the one who will answer in terminology he read in books because characters there can talk, right, and they don’t get made fun of, and they just. Get to live. By the time Wayne took me in, I knew how to say what I wanted to say, how to answer questions, even though I would still evade them if I didn’t know the answer.”

“The Shire is burning, so Mordor it is,” Steve says quietly, and Eddie lifts his head to meet his eyes in the dim light of the room.

“Hm?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… But when. At Skull Rock. Dustin asked you to come along and I said we can’t just take a walk with you because you were still wanted, and then he asked you. You just said—“

“The Shire is burning,” Eddie fills in, as though realisation only just hits him. “So Mordor it is.” He swallows and puts his head back on Steve’s chest, where Steve’s hand immediately finds its way back into his hair. “Yeah. Like that. You got it.”

“I always thought it was just a quirk. But it’s not?”

Eddie sighs and seems to want to bury further into Steve. “I mean, I don’t even know at this point. But you understand what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, though he’s not sure he really does. Doesn’t think he could, really. “So, what happened with the kids today?”

“Remember how I have this thing with words? Where I’ll just say them over and over again because they feel good or funky or weird, all that jazz? Well, today’s word, apparently, was luminous.”

“Luminous?”

“Luminous. And boy, I think Dustin was mighty annoyed with me. Thought I made fun of him the whole drive home. And I used to have this under control, the funky words and the non-answers and the fucking quirky Munson freak show. Turns out, I don’t. And I blame Vecna.”

Eddie is done, and he’s quiet, and Steve doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t think there’s anything he can say, could say, to help.

And he feels stupid when all he says after a while is, “Luminous is a good word, though.”

But Eddie laughs, and the tension between his shoulders leaves, and he presses a kiss to Steve’s chest. Maybe not so stupid then. “It really is.”

“What’s it mean?”

“It means that something’s shining or glowing. Radiant. Bright. Something to do with light.”

Steve smiles for some reason, forming the word with his lips again. “Good word.”

Eddie just hums, and Steve mulls over everything that Eddie just told him. They lie there in silence for a while longer, before a thought strikes him. He braces himself the way he always does when he’s about to be vulnerable, when he’s about to expose himself and hope that no one is gonna strike where it’ll hurt the most.

“Is that why you’re so patient with me?”

“Come again?”

“Your… Your difficulty with, uhm, with communication sometimes, right? Is that why you, why you don’t mind when I need a moment to get things, or to say things, or when I need you to use different words? You never make me fee stupid about it, not like… Anyway, I always wondered why you didn’t mind. Guess it makes a little sense now, huh?”

Eddie is still for a moment before he raises not just his head but his entire body, coming up to straddle Steve’s hips and look him in the eye.

“You deserve patience, Stevie. First of all. And second of all, it’s not a hardship — and it wouldn’t be a hardship for the buttheads either if they weren’t a bunch of self entitled teenagers. You’re not stupid. You hear me?”

Steve nods, and Eddie cocks his eyebrow. “Not stupid,” Steve concedes, a smile forming on his lips. “Thank you.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Eddie threatens, before cuddling back into his earlier position on Steve’s chest. “But yeah, I think you might have a point that you and I, we just…”

“Match?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, the smile evident even in his voice. “We match.”

They fall asleep like that, holding hands, not willing to let go.

And that is how Steve finds himself looking at words differently. He listens to people differently, still oftentimes not catching their meaning, but he’ll catch their words as though they’re separated from any sort of meaning. He’s collecting them, and remembers that Hop once told him what he and El used to do.

They’d have this word of the day deal going on, where El would learn one new, possibly big word each day.

Maybe it’s silly, maybe it’s even offensive or patronising, but he still ends up telling Eddie about it, and the boy’s eyes are, well, almost luminous.

“You’d want to do that?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugs, tugging Eddie in for a hug because he never wants to stop holding him, dammit. “Maybe I could learn a thing or two, improve my vocabulary just to defy Dustin one of these days.”

And Eddie just laughs into Steve’s throat, sounding happy and bubbly and excited.

Steve realises he would do anything just for Eddie to laugh like this.

They make it a routine. If Steve wants to get a goodnight kiss, he has to tell Eddie at least one Good Word, as they’re calling them now. The rule gets omitted more often than not, because Eddie simply cannot resist kissing him. Ever. Steve still collects the words for him, catches Eddie writing them down sometimes, over and over again, and just hooks his chin over his shoulder, never interrupting him. Never judging.

Sometimes when they don’t know how a word is written or what it means, they’ll have a look at the dictionaries in Steve’s mother’s library, or call Nancy or one of the Wonder Whiz Kids with their endless wisdom; though even Dustin doesn’t know how to properly pronounce iridescence. They don’t care, though, because it looks pretty enough.

The questions rise, people demand to know what’s up, and one day Steve tells them. Not the entire story about Eddie’s struggles with words and communication, but he tells them that, “Sometimes words that look or sound pretty, or funky, or weird, delight Eddie.”

“Is delight one such word?” Lucas asks, and Steve flips him the bird.

“Fuck off, Sinclair, or you can leave if you’re going to make fun of this.”

They all realise pretty quickly that Steve is serious, and thad this is important to him. No one makes another snide remark and they all listen carefully as he tells them about how he and Eddie have been collecting the words.”

“Like me,” El says, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips and Steve melts as he turns to her.

“Yeah, El. Like you. I told Eddie how you did it back then, and he absolutely loved it.”

Eleven looks so proud when he tells her, and Steve just really fucking loves these kids. Most of the time, at least.

After that, nobody questions them anymore when Eddie or Steve call, needing their help with a word or two. Especially when they see how genuinely relieved and happy Eddie is when the remarks, the questions, the teasing stops. Even though he tries to hide it.

One by one, everyone in their chaotic little group contributes to their treasure of words. They try to be sneaky about it, but Eddie finds out, of course.

It’s on a Trauma Family Bonding Night where there’s pizza and ice cream in abundance and they all come together at Steve’s place, even Hop and Joyce joining them for the night. They talk the whole night through, and everyone will have brought their word. Ineffable, from Mike. Philanthropist, from Nancy. Epiphany, from Max. Catharsis, from Will, which quickly sends Eddie into a happy little spiral, rambling like he did that first time about Stevie.

“It’s just, it’s a great word! Starts with a weak syllable, almost unimportant, but it’s crass, a harsh beginning even in its irrelevance. But then you get to the ‘tharsis’, and it’s big and bright and you can’t ignore it, can’t not open your mouth and by extension your mind and heart to this change, this realisation, this complete opposite to where you started. And then the end, the last syllable, and you don’t even have the chance to be harsh about it, to be crass, to be curt. Because the ‘sis’ needs you to take your time, making sure you end the word almost on a smile.” Eddie finishes his rambles and looks almost embarrassed about it, but Steve can only stare at him and find the most beautiful, most wonderful, most intelligent looking back at him because Eddie doesn’t quite dare to look at anyone else.

Steve moves to him, right into his personal space, and kisses him. It almost feels like catharsis, the word still hot on Eddie’s lips.

“Told you it was a great word,” Will says and they all laugh, even when Eddie and Steve are breathless from just about everything.

It’s that night that Eddie finds out that they all know, that they’re all in on their little word treasure hunt.

He looks at Steve when everyone is gone, El leaving them with effervescent, and thinks, I want to spend the rest of my days with you, Stevie.

Steve drops the spoon he’s been holding, half-empty tub of ice cream on the counter abandoned as he stares at Eddie.

They’re both staring, because Eddie is realising what he’s just said out loud, and Steve just busy processing.

“Forever,” he says after a moment, sounding dazed, feeling dazed, dizzy, floating, as he walks towards Eddie. “It’s a pretty big word, hm?” His hand finds Eddie’s cheek, caressing, mapping, promising.

“Feels just big enough, honestly,” Eddie says before catching Steve’s lips in a kiss.

They’ll talk about this. Of course they will. But not now. Now, they just create their own little forever. Just the two of them and the love they share.

written for @bethespark who wanted to see Eddie with echolalia, but then this ran away from me. well. you're not surprised.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #dio words #yall fair warning i wrote this between midnight and 2.30am in one go on the bathroom floor and should not be posting rn probably #but i have no impulse control soooo here you go i bring you neurodivergent steddie right to your dash you’re welcome #thanks for the prompt and the rambles poe ily 🤍#i should really start posting these to ao3 instead huh? or split them like any normal person would. huh #neurodivergent steddie

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